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 all and one

They would stare unbelieving at the last unicorn

When the first breath of winter though their flowers it's icing

And you look to the north and the pale moon is rising

And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to more

In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn