The Gift

THE GIFT
Young girl in a meadow, dandelions ‘round her feet,
Blowing seeds of wishes in the wind.
Little boy by a fishing hole, laughin’ in the sun
On a summer’s day that seems to have no end.
Don’t you disturb them. Don’t break that magic spell.
Childhood will soon desert them. We know the story well.

The breaching of our innocence,
The breaking of the dawn,
Battering where our illusions lie.
We all have our memories
Of times our worlds stood still
And revealed the gift that showed us how to fly.

Mothers meet their newborns laid upon their breasts,
Fathers’ arms will guard them through the night.
Parents tell their tales about the days when they were young
And whisper prayers as they turn out the light.
Don’t you disturb them. Don’t break that magic spell.
Childhood will soon desert them. We know the story well.

The breaching of our innocence,
The breaking of the dawn,
Battering where our illusions lie.
We all have our memories
Of times our worlds stood still
And revealed the gift that showed us how to fly.

Ah, we can’t hold on.
It’s gone before the morning.
It leads us farther on
And seems to end without warning.

Old eyes stare into the sky surrounded by the sound,
The ticking that begins when we are born.
Wishes once blown in the wind return to be fulfilled,
A father’s arms to catch them when they fall.
Don’t you disturb them. Don’t break that magic spell.
Childhood will soon reclaim them. We know the story well.

The breaching of our innocence,
The breaking of the dawn,
Battering where our illusions lie.
We all have our memories
Of times our worlds stood still
And revealed the gift that showed us how to fly,
Revealed the gift that showed us how to fly,
Revealed the gift that showed us how to fly.