THE LAST UNICORN

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 bo old and worn. They will stare unbelieving at the LAST UNICORN…
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing. And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising and it seems like all is dying. And would leave the world to mourn in the distance. Hear her laughter It’s the LAST UNICORN. I’m alive…I’m alive.
When the last moon is cast over the last star or morning. And the future is past without even a last desparate warning. Look into the sky where through the clouds a path is formed. Look and see how she sparkles. It’s the LAST UNICORN I’m alive…I’m alive…

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