Looks as if you're dropping mirrors by the gross   Looks as if your nine lives have left town   When you paint in grey and drear   Eldorado won't appear   To run his sword through all the fears that pull you down      And it's okay, for the setting sun   Will colour everything around you gold   And it's okay, for the setting sun   Will colour everything around you gold      Looks as if you need a lighthouse in your dark   Looks as if I'm now your native guide   When the fog is drawing in   Snarling dragons break to grin   And trample over all the things that pull you down      And it's okay . . .      And all those pebbles in your shoes are precious stones   And all the skeletons in closets   Merely piles of harmless bones      . . . And it's okay, as the setting sun   Will colour everything around you gold   Even though it's brown, you'll   See your old brick town go gold