there s a hand in my pocket searching for change there s a man in the mirror his hair s turning grey his first crashing through the air constant despair and i lost my copy of vanity fair now that you ve come this far can you accept who you are horizons with eyes staring wide open an african child he taught me how to blink and i couldn t smile then i spoke to the silence drawn with a fade with a laughter from the well of clear water the remnants of hope echoed after now that hating s been done and you ve no qualms with anyone horizons