I am the day-dreamer-
The fisherman's boy in quiet defiance
Of the fate the gods left him to bear,
In favor of what could be
A future grand destiny
Or lonely illusion.
I am trapped in a bodily shell,
Seeming under the spell
Of that next, green hill.
North!
Just past the hill before me,
Where the wind may blow free
Beyond the sea.
North!
The good land that bore me,
Above the daily monotony.
Like a fish in my father's net,
I struggle to breathe
Above and beyond the world I see.
I am the boy dreamer-
The fisherman's son in quiet defiance,
The South looking to the North for guidance.
I cannot gaze into your eyes
Knowing what I do
About me and about you.
I know-
You are perfect,
Ruler,
Lord of this land
And its Creator.
You know-
I am marred,
Slavish,
Uninhabitant:
And I have broken your world.
I struck the bell
My heart forbid me to.
I hurt and disregarded
My one good friend.
I awoke the evil
That stains new Narnia-
The ancient , bound to bring our end.
But, what is this I see-
In you, in your voice.
A second chance, for me?
A quest, to redeem myself..
A way appears
In mercy
To glue back what was broken
And help repair the world.
Across the fountain fair she stood,
In the soft shadow of the wood,
Shining eye and bright her array.
Doom had she in her hand that day.
Beautiful enchantress, woe to him who met her!
Poison of the serpent green and 's dark fetter.
Before the witch, a heart so fair:
Born of a daughter of the air,
Son of light, though darkness loving,
Doom she made to him was coming.
Beautiful enchantress, woe to him who met her!
Poison of the serpent green and 's dark fetter.
Entranced by the great light she feigned,
He followed her to where she reigned-
Heart twisted, bound, beneath the earth:
Trapped under-world, him of royal birth.
Beautiful enchantress, woe to him who met her!
Poison of the serpent green and 's dark fetter.
Terrible enchantments binding him who met her,
Waiting for rescue to come beneath stone letters.
We are the Royal Four:
From another world brought, fated by Aslan
To defeat the winter evil from Charn.
Four thrones for us await,
A core of prophesy.
Hidden we have been
In ordinary lives…
‘Til we were called as rulers by
The one who rules us.
Narnia looks to One
‘Fore whom herself trembles,
Who guides Four on.
We are the Royal Four:
From another world brought, fated by Aslan
To defeat the winter evil from Charn.
Our race brought her here.
Our race, through Him, heralds her doom.
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