The air is dark with demon wings;
The box's lid is open wide.
Pandora looks for treasure there,
But only Hope is left inside.
Grief and terror, plague and pain
Lay hidden 'neath a golden lid;
Who would have thought that such as these
Would be the spawn of what she did?
And in the darkness of despair,
It seems that even Hope has flown.
With friends around, you join to sing
The song that lights her way back home.