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 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 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!