Looks as if you're dropping mirrors by the gross Looks as if your nine lives have left town When you paint in grey and drear Eldorado won't appear To run his sword through all the fears that pull you down
And it's okay, for the setting sun Will colour everything around you gold And it's okay, for the setting sun Will colour everything around you gold
Looks as if you need a lighthouse in your dark Looks as if I'm now your native guide When the fog is drawing in Snarling dragons break to grin And trample over all the things that pull you down
And it's okay . . .
And all those pebbles in your shoes are precious stones And all the skeletons in closets Merely piles of harmless bones
. . . and it's okay, as the setting sun Will colour everything around you gold Even though it's brown, you'll See your old brick town go gold
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