There's a young man dying
as he stands beside the sea.
You can see him smiling, unbelievably free:
wind in his hair, light in his eyes.
He looks a lot like you, and you look so surprised
that he would send you on your way
with no good-byes.
But he can't go, and you can't stay,
'cause in the years it takes
to make one man wise, the young man dies.

Meanwhile you're sailing,
as you wave good-bye to shore.
You're anticipating what these new days
will hold in store.
It's the mystery of the ocean,
but now he's in over his head.
This is no place for the young man,
he's got to send you on instead.
And still you're looking so surprised
that this change has come as prophesied
but the years won't compromise,
'cause in the years it takes
to make one man wise, the young man dies.

The young man:
He was such a lonely boy.
Yeah, but he could dream, all right.
He could picture you a perfect sunrise
in the middle of your darkest night.
And he could take a sip from someday,
like he had a secret well.
He could listen to the voices calling
from a distant time will tell.
It's you in that picture where you're looking far away
like you hear a whisper of the things
you'll know someday.
But back then your heart was hungry
for something hard to find; you were
just holding out for someday,
but you've left that pain behind
'cause he walked you through those mountains,
for as long as he could bear.
He never reached the fountain,
but he could take you there.
The young man's dying
'cause in the years it takes to make one man wise,
the young man dies.