Because when life's rocks start piling one by one, two by two, multiples by multiples on you;
And you start to pant, you start to sag, the air starts to feel tight;
You feel your own life draining out of you.
You slowly stop struggling.
Your vision blurs and darkens.
Just before you blackout,
A hand grabs hold of you.
He pulls you up.
He pumps a tank of oxygen into you.
He gives you a good, hard shake.
It's as if there's light at the end of the tunnel.
It's not the end.
You start breathing once again.
And you slowly regain consciousness.
It's a cycle.
So when the air gets thin again,
Remember,
There's light at the end of the tunnel;
Darling, it's not the end.