I stand at the end of the line
Where there seems to be no more time
The end in soon to be here
And I can just barely hear
The whistle blow
Even through, times may be low
But I dare not give in
For we can still create
For there is still time to make
I stand at the end of the line
Where there seems to be no more time
The end in soon to be here
And I can just barely hear
The whistle blow
Others stand beside me
For the hungry mouths we feed
Our hands become heavy
And our bodies become weary
We stand at the end of the line
Where there seems to be no more time
The end in soon to be here
And we can just barely hear
When the whistle stops blowing
It is time to go
To a place I call home
The little ones go first
For they die with thirst