My father told me, he told me, "Son,

There was one year in my life, I felt so close to God."

He said, "I lost my way on and off again

Since that time oh but you can be sure.

When my well runs dry I return

To the reservoir."



This life is a river, cruel and then kind

Yes it can cradle or kill you, protect you or leave you to die

I said, the river runs cold and merciless

Headlong past every shore

But in the end it returns by and by to the reservoir



Oh my body's battered

Oh my soul is anything but pure

So I go drawing from the reservoir



Heaven is a perfect blue reflection of the reservoir

It's a perfect blue reflection

More perfect than perfection



We're born into this life our bodies glistening from the reservoir

Our bodies shiny with the water

Each of us heaven's sons and daughters

I said:

Between that moment and the journey's end

We lose the knowledge that we had back then



Innocence like sunlight

Sunlight falling on the field in which we gather

The field that gathers up our hearts

And leads them homeward past the stories of the sycamores

Sense of wonder, over yonder lies the reservoir



My father told me, he told me "Son,

There was one year in my life

I felt so close to God."

He said he felt so close to God



Now he's returning to the reservoir

He's always returning to the reservoir

I guess we're all just returning to the reservoir.