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 UnicornWhen 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 of morning
and the future has passed without even a last desparate warning
look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn
look and see her how she shimmers, it's the Last Unicorn
I'm alive... I'm alive... I'm alive!
