The Young

The night's begun

And my braids have come undone

They've fallen at your feet in a pile of thunder

Strange but not unkind

Are the mazes in our minds

Let's go together now

And let them take us under

Oh, golden fire

We are down but we're not tired

We're just resting in these

Doldrums of your song

And all our work will travel on

And leave us nothing to drink from

But this is not the time

To be alone and worry

It might mean something to the young

These things we've made

How long can they parade?

I feel them moving now, they're always leaving

But so long and true

Are the times I look at you

Your face is like a poem that I keep reading

And have we done anything for the young?

Will they see these conclusions that we've drawn?

And all our work will travel on

And leave us nothing to drink from

But this is not the time

To be alone and worry

It might mean something to the young

And this is not the time

To be alone and worry

It might mean something to the young