You ask what is the quality of life
Seeking to justify the part you play
And mask, what seems a worthless fate
To strive, to make it any more or less than short and sweet
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 your time
And we, we, the immoral men, we dare
Naked and fearless in the elements
We're free, carefree from tempting fates, aware
And holding off the moral nightmare at the gates
In the garden
But short, short is from you to me, as close
As we all hope to try to help it be
We're caught watching the dark in the sky, who knows?
Helpless as time itself to hold the time of day
And sweet, sweet as a mountain stream, beholds
Toward a new day breaking in the east
We'll meet as every future dream unfolds
And surely quality it is at very least
At very least