You ask what is the quality of life?

Seeking to justify the part you play

And hide, fearing it incomplete

To try to make it any more or less than short and sweet

But short, short is from you to me

As close as we are wont to try to make it be

We're caught watching the dark in the sky

Who knows, helpless as time itself to hold the time of day

And you, you are a fantasy

A view from where you'd like to think the world should see

Be true and you will likely find

A few building a vision new and justice to our time

And we, we, the immoral men

We dare, naked and fearless in the elements

And free, carefree of tempting fate

Aware and holding off the moral nightmare at the gates

And sweet, sweet as a mountain stream

We'll look toward a new day breaking in the east

We'll meet as every future dream unfolds

And surely quality that is the very least