It's been eight years, eleven months, and eighteen days And so very much has changed We used to paint the word with love and tolerance But now our palette's full of grey And while I still have faith in ponykind And I still hum the old tunes I've grown so tired of this fight that just drags on It seems the lessons that we've learned have all but gone Long ago a wise mare wrote some humbling words Celebrating differences And if she was here, I'd bet that she'd be ashamed To see what we've become And while the happy thoughts of long lost days Have since faded into black A new day dawns with hope that we may change And maybe learn from all our past mistakes Celestia, I hope that day Isn't too far away