I’ve been like a castle in the air,
Heavily laden with despair
While you live in vanity fair;
You’ve been walking on air,
While for me everything is a flying mare.
Why is your ministry misery?
Everything I give is green,
Yet it all ends up gloomy
Why are you so mean?
Will I ever hear the sounds of victory?
Put me out of misery!
Save me from despair
Make me free from despondency
Shield me from the fowler’s snare
All I’ve lost is not beyond repair
I’m four seasons past gold
But I’m still left in the cold
Sadly you are all of a mould
Do your part to make me grow
Now you have a chance, you know
That’s the birthday gift I want from you.