By Laura L.
The watchman waits;
the world is dying, and he cannot see.
His eyes are full of sails.
If I could weep.
If I could weep.
Wake me from sleep.
My lady, my long life
has been a dream of golden longings,
and it is fading.
Earth, I am your daughter.
Woods, I am our daughter,
and I touch the water.
The ships are waiting.
My people, how could I think of staying?
Watchman, I fear so.
The magic is gone.
The magic is done.
I've forgotten the song.