Swankly flow of glistening gold
I am now free from cravings of old
Entering earshot of divine foretold
The Hero is young but wise like a toad
Taking nothing but receiving freely
He gives what is His, no he gives of Himself
A God in disguise, as a worldly illusion
There is something here, beyond the confusion
A tale of Heroism, beginning at Dawn
It ends when the Hero has composed his Song
A tale of spontaneity, of frivolous wonder
A man in a world, adventure asunder.
I am now free from cravings of old
Entering earshot of divine foretold
The Hero is young but wise like a toad
Taking nothing but receiving freely
He gives what is His, no he gives of Himself
A God in disguise, as a worldly illusion
There is something here, beyond the confusion
A tale of Heroism, beginning at Dawn
It ends when the Hero has composed his Song
A tale of spontaneity, of frivolous wonder
A man in a world, adventure asunder.