In the dawning, wakening hour, He'll lift his head and brush his eye
With gentle strokes that will only blindly mislead him
Into the first day of creation Which he only sees in limitation
Now he sits upon his empty bed His heart is warm, his heart is full
And he can see But it is impossible for him to retain me
For his arms are without form He cannot know the words
As his mind cries out, answer
Now he's standing inside the doorway He is afraid, but he believes all that he sees
On the floor where everything is merging
And the pictures he sees are tragic And he begins to believe in magic
Now he lies down in a hole down in the ground Where it is cold and now he knows
Now he realizes his biggest mistake That he never had to grow old
And he never had to grow old cold and die
Now he realizes his biggest mistake That he never had to grow old