‎When you're facing the sun, waiting for these things to come
We smilin' high, watching the good things passing by
Pretend to feeling fine, but inside we crying sometimes
It ain't what it seems, nothing but a dream
And the faces get void, and the lies getting thin
And the roads become uneven, so we don't know where we've been 
And those who doubt us, will soon believe
We're never supposed to win, or even to achieve