My life has been a tapestry   Of rich and royal hue;   An everlasting vision   Of the ever-changing view;   A wond'rous woven magic   In bits of blue and gold;   A tapestry to feel and see;   Impossible to hold.      Once amid the soft silver   Sadness in the sky,   There came a man of fortune;   A drifter passing by.   He wore a torn and tattered cloth   Around his leathered hide   And a coat of many colors;   Yellow, green, on either side.      He moved with some uncertainty   As if he didn't know   Just what he was there for   Or where he ought to go.   Once he reached for something   Golden hanging from a tree   And his hand came down emp-ty.      Soon within my tapestry,   Along the rutted road,   He sat down on a river rock   And turned into a toad.   It seemed that he had fallen   Into someone's wicked spell   And I wept to see him suffer,   Though I didn't know him well.      As I watched in sorrow,   There suddenly appeared   A figure gray and ghostly   Beneath a flowing beard.   In times of deepest darkness   I've seen him dressed in black.   Now my tapestry's unraveling;   He's come to take me back.   He's come to take me back.