There are days when it continues to be hard to locate a port in the storm. On rare days, there is no storm at all. Most of the time, I drop anchor and weather the winds. Even though we are tossed about Just trying to hang on We got no ritual, no routine No port in that storm I look up at the sky And the stars still shine And I am confident we’ll find I am sure that we We’re gonna find We will find our way We’ll find our way Again My song called Bleeding Time is two years old today.