(Brian Woodbury)

When the world came tumbling down,
you didn’t know what hit you.
Screaming, crawling. Bodies falling.
Then it hit you.

You never knew how good you had it
till it slipped right from your hand.
Buried in debris and dust,
with no place for you to stand.

But there’s a pale and distant glimmer,
faintly seen and growing dimmer.
Just don’t let it leave your sight.
You can hang on through the night
Keep your head in the light, etc.

Rescue ropes come fumbling down,
but you don’t know what hits you.
You’re still hoping. You’re still groping.
Then it hits you.

Brought into a different future,
in a world you hadn’t planned.
Now the knot is tightening
and you don’t know where you stand.

Should you still think men are brothers
or give up now like the others?
Wrong is easy, what is right?
Struggle on with all your might
to keep your head in the light, etc.

When your bombs go bumbling down,
they’ll never know what hit them.
They’ll be praying, you’ll be praying,
when you hit them.

And sinkin’ down to reach the bottom
won’t restore your promised land.
When it’s done and over,
is there anywhere to stand?

So will you rise up from the rubble?
Face the truth and trace the trouble?
Walk against this growing night
and the terror and the fright
and the rockets’ red blight?
Keep your head in the light. etc.