The darkness of it all,
The darkness of it all.
The hoped-against that's had to hide,
Returns to twist me deep inside.
A torture must be faced again,
Descent into the prodding pain.
The darkness of it all.

The whiteness of it all,
The whiteness of it all.
So clean, so clinical, so cold;
And yet so very, very old.
Even flickering yellow lamps
Cannot destroy or dampen
The whiteness of it all.

The redness of it all,
The redness of it all.
So painful, so sharp, so searing
Despite the drugs and the tubes, the fear
Still tears and sucks throughout the soul;
Discards yet saves the weakening whole.
The redness of it all.

The blackness of it all,
The blackness of it all.
The dull, deep thumping in the chest,
The churning longing for quiet rest.
Hourly pills still leave the ache.
The shivering becomes a shake.
The blackness of it all.

The greyness of it all,
The greyness of it all.
So dreary, repetitive, samey, dull.
Despite the place being so full.
Even the tingle of countless stares
Will not excite or make aware
The greyness of it all.

The brightness of it all,
The brightness of it all.
The first awaking free of pain.
A sunrise, singing, free again.
The people here are full of joy
At last, it's over. Land ahoy!
Ah, relief.
The brightness of it all.