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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 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 the pale moon is rising.
And it seems like all is dying,
and would leave the world to mourn.
in the distance, hear the laughter,
of the last unicorn!
i'm alive,
I'm alive!
When the last rune is cast,
over the last star of morning,
and the future has passed
without even the last desperate warning.
then look into the sky where through
the clouds a path is formed.
look and see her,
how she sparkles!
it's the last unicorn!
I'M ALIVE!
I'M ALIVE!