A cripple on his deathbednIn a daydream did ridenAll past the streams of firenOn a petal path did glidennHe left his wheelchair spinningnDeeper in the mudnIn it set his memoriesnIn its body and its bloodnnAn angel came to greet himnBy his side she flewnWhispered, as a part of himnWhat he already knewnnHis head was spinning freelynAnd it was plain to seenHis burden was himself, he borenThe sight his eyes could bennHis death, it died quite easilynRight there, was gone for goodnBut he couldn't see his loved onenLike he thought he shouldnnHe thought if they were gone, said henAnd this cannot be truenThe search to find what wasn't therenHas brought him back to you