But I’ve been walking through the night and the day
Till my eyes get weary and my head turns grey,
And sometimes it seems maybe God’s gone away,
Forgetting the promise that we heard him say—
And we’re lost out here in the stars—

In these lines the speaker voices the exhaustion of prolonged striving—“walking through the night and the day”—and the spiritual desolation that can follow when effort yields no clear deliverance. The imagery of eyes growing weary and hair turning grey compresses time, suggesting a life spent in endurance. The most piercing turn is theological: the sense that God has “gone away,” not merely absent but forgetful of a “promise” once heard. The closing image—being “lost out here in the stars”—shifts from earthly hardship to cosmic disorientation, implying that modern experience can feel vast, indifferent, and unmoored from providential meaning.