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 old and 
worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn

When the first breath of winter through the flowers is 
icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn

Im alive, Im alive

When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning
And the future has passed without even a last desperate 
warning
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is 
torn
Look and see her how she sparkles, its the last unicorn

Im alive, Im alive