When the last eagle flies
Over the last crumbling mountain,
And the last lion roars
At the last dusty fountain.
In the shadow of the forest,
Though she may be old and worn,
They would stare unbelieving
At the Last Unicorn.
When the first breath of winter
When the last moon is cast
Over the last star of morning,
And the future has passed
Without even a last desperate warning,
Then look into the sky where through
The clouds a path is torn.
Look and see her, how she sparkles:
It's the Last Unicorn.
I'm alive! I'm alive!
Over the last crumbling mountain,
And the last lion roars
At the last dusty fountain.
In the shadow of the forest,
Though she may be old and worn,
They would stare unbelieving
At the Last Unicorn.
When the first breath of winter
When the last moon is cast
Over the last star of morning,
And the future has passed
Without even a last desperate warning,
Then look into the sky where through
The clouds a path is torn.
Look and see her, how she sparkles:
It's the Last Unicorn.
I'm alive! I'm alive!
