The Finest Hour

Our smiles tell the lie, our laughter hides the question;
We’re still not sure we’ve come to grips with who we are.
Outside a Renaissance, inside a great depression
We boast enlightenment but we can't feel the spark.

And the paradise that was, cannot be found inside of us; we must look above; we must look to Love.

Life is a moment; Love is our finest hour. Beneath its form we surrender. The world’s a desert; Love is the only flower. Beneath its shade we remember.

Our hands hold fast to earth; our mouths speak not of Eden; We’re too afraid we’ll come to grips with who we are.
We starve ourselves of faith; we overdose on reason;
But too much medicine is poison to the heart.