My father told me, he told me, "Son,   There was one year in my life, I felt so close to God."   He said, "I lost my way on and off again   Since that time oh but you can be sure.   When my well runs dry I return   To the reservoir."      This life is a river, cruel and then kind   Yes it can cradle or kill you, protect you or leave you to die   I said, the river runs cold and merciless   Headlong past every shore   But in the end it returns by and by to the reservoir      Oh my body's battered   Oh my soul is anything but pure   So I go drawing from the reservoir      Heaven is a perfect blue reflection of the reservoir   It's a perfect blue reflection   More perfect than perfection      We're born into this life our bodies glistening from the reservoir   Our bodies shiny with the water   Each of us heaven's sons and daughters   I said:   Between that moment and the journey's end   We lose the knowledge that we had back then      Innocence like sunlight   Sunlight falling on the field in which we gather   The field that gathers up our hearts   And leads them homeward past the stories of the sycamores   Sense of wonder, over yonder lies the reservoir      My father told me, he told me "Son,   There was one year in my life   I felt so close to God."   He said he felt so close to God      Now he's returning to the reservoir   He's always returning to the reservoir   I guess we're all just returning to the reservoir.