When you´re down and they´re counting,
when your secrets all found out,
when your troubles take to mounting,
when the map you have leads you to doubt.
When there´s no information
and the compass turns to nowhere that you know well:
let your soul be your pilot,
let your soul guide you,
he´ll guide you well.
When the doctors failed to heal you,
when no medicine chest can make you well,
when no counsel leads to comfort,
when there are no more lies they can tell.
No more useless information and the compass spins,
the compass spind between heaven and hell:
let your soul be your pilot,
let your soul guide you,
he´ll guide you well.
And your eyes turn towards the window pane
to the lights upon the hill.
The distance seems to strange to you now
and the dark room seems to still.
Let your pain be my sorrow,
let your tears be my tears too.
Let your courage be my model,
that the north you find will be true.
When there´s no more useless information
and the compass turns to nowhere that you know well:
Let your soul be your pilot,
let your soul guide you, let your soul guide you,
let your soul guide you upon your way. |