It's hard,hard, not to sit on your hands,
burrow your head in the sand,hard,
not to make other plansand claim that you've done all you can,
all aloneand life must go on.
It's hard,hard, to stand up for what's right
and bring home the bacon each night,
hard, not to break down and cry,
when every ideal that you tried
has been wrong.
But you must carry on.
It's hard, but you know it's worth the fight,
cause you know you've got the truth on your side,
when the accusations fly.
Don't be afraid of what they'll say.
Who cares what cowards think? Anyway,
They will understand one day,one day.
It's hard,hard, when you're here all alone and everyone else's gone home.
Harder to know right from wrong
when all objectivity's goneand it's gone.
But you still carry on.