The old man's holding his hand fan
And combs the water, makes it flat
He's waiting for the midday's wind
And then he moves his fan a lot
I cast a stone and make a splash
The water wrinkles and the old man
Sadly flattens down the waves
And then he said, before he died
The water is your mirror now
When smooth don't laugh at your reflection
See how much fairy tale is left for you
And pray to lose not thy salvation
I cast a stone and make a splash
The water wrinkles as in pain
And then I take the old man's fan
And sweep the water flat again
And all around there's only sand
And high above the sky's so far
Sometimes I miss the old man's presence
But I remember his wise lesson
The water is your mirror now
When smooth don't laugh at your reflection
See how much fairy tale is left for you
And pray to lose not thy salvation
The water is your mirror now
When smooth don't laugh at your reflection
See how much fairy tale is left for you
And pray to lose not thy salvation
