Cry, O, Does You're done with 
fortune 
Mean deeds did steal Your need 
to be free 
Dry and close your wandering 
fountains 
and be with me as I slip trough 
Your dreams 
Think about the Young boy 
He's so eager to be loved, to 
understand 
getting his hair cut like a boy 
watching the sun set on his own 
Think about the young girl 
she's so eager to be loved and 
understood 
Think about the young boy, 
He's becoming a man 
Cry, O, Doves You're done with 
fortune 
New dreams did free Your need 
to be real 
Try, O, Moles in Your sunly 
torture 
to dream of me as You creep 
trough the trees 
Think about the Young boy 
He's so eager to be loved, to 
understand 
getting his hair cut like a boy 
watching the sun set on his own 
Think about the young girl 
she?s so eager to be loved and 
understood 
Think about the young boy, 
He's becoming a man 
Broken is the wind 
Broken is his fellow 
his name is Angro-Diti 
and his voice is very mellow 
/and he sings/ 
"So twice five miles of fertile 
ground 
with walls and towers were 
girdled `round 
and there were gardens 
bright with sinous rills 
were blossomed many an 
incense-bearing tree" 
He sings of wuthering wilderness 
and how it once was tamed 
He sings of God?s boredom 
in the days of no names 
Cry, O, Doves You're done with 
fortune 
New dreams did free Your need 
to be real 
Try, O, Moles in Your sunly 
torture 
to dream of me as You creep 
through the trees 
Think about the Young boy 
He's so eager to be loved, to 
understand 
getting his hair cut like a boy 
watching the sun set on his own 
Think about the young girl 
she's so eager to be loved and 
understood 
Think about the Young boy 
He's so eager to be loved, to 
understand 
getting his hair cut like a boy 
watching the sun set on his own 
Oh, when worlds collide 
it's like thunder in the head 
and fire in the mind 
So, think about the young boy 
He?s becoming a man