From the recording The Thing Is
Written by Chantal Dube and Kevin Little
Produced by Kevin Little
Drums: Andrew Bissessar
Piano and Organ: Craig Kennedy
Lyrics
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Ignorantly disregarded by the vain
As they overlook the impoverished
The modest the plain
In their youth they boasted fairness
Their bright complexion their lovely features the best
Beauteous lies
In all fairness
Time is not fair it takes away the fair
And lies them down to rest
And lies them down to rest
Lies them down to rest
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Ignorantly disregarded by the vain
As they overlook the impoverished
The modest the plain
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Effortlessly sold
By the vainglorious by those who
Believe all that glitters is gold
But jewels lose their sheen when
Strung on a stiff nape
Vain
A bangle on your arm
A shiny ridged chain
When taken from their casket
To be put into yours
May tether you to vanity
But does not arm against mortality
Against mortality
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Ignorantly disregarded by the vain
As they overlook the impoverished
the modest the plain
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Viciously taken by time
Pulled from their wrinkled hands
That cling to a forgotten line
The vain narcissistic
Endeavour to cover up their
Timeworn complexion
With makeup because of their makeup
But nothing can they make up for a
Dissipated life
Time the conduit of death
And to both they are subject
To both they are subject
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Ignorantly disregarded by the vain
As they overlook the impoverished
The modest the plain
Hope blows in the cruel wind
Effortlessly sold
By the vainglorious by those who
Believe all that glitters is gold