Les jours tristes (Instrumental) - Yann Tiersen

It’s hard,

hard, not to sit on your hands,

burrow your head in the sand,

hard, not to make other plans

and claim that you’ve done all you can,

all alone

and 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.

Hold tight!

Don’t be afraid of what they’ll say.

Who cares what cowards think?

Anyway,

They will understand some day,

some 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 gone

and it’s gone.

But you still

carry on.

‘cause you,

you are the only one left

and you’ve got to clean up this mess.

You know you’ll end up like the rest

Bitter and twisted — unless

you stay strong

And you

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.

Hold tight!

Don’t be afraid of what they’ll say.

Who cares what cowards think?

Anyway,

They will understand some day,

some day.