We told our tales as we sat under
Morning's sleepy sky
With all the colours of the sunrise
Shining in our eyes.
One, then another, with a story of yesterday's lives
Or of a lover who had gone in a
Moment of strife.
No thought of sleep ever dwells upon
The wise man's mind
Some task or audience stealing every
Moment of his time.
Thus we have learned to live
While mortal men stand waiting to die.
How can we do what must be done in
Just one short life.
And if you ask, then you must know.
If you still doubt, you should be told.
It was not we that made it so.
It was by those who went before.
And there you sit, tomorrow's child
So full of love, so full of life
But you must rise to meet the day
Lest you become another tale
And there you sit, tomorrow's child
So full of love, so full of life
But you must rise to meet the day
Lest you become another tale
Another tale, another tale
Another tale
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