66 or 64,   it doesn't really matter anymore   There's no more throwing sticks into the river   And me I've not just grown, I've grown too clever   Just let go      Back then I was French and yet Chinese   I knew songs of butterflies and bees   But the poets killed the vipers and the songs   Chained the princess and carried her along   Just let go      I remember all the songs   Well, that was right and this is wrong   I would really like to sing along   But I won't try as giants have no tongue      It was all a bluff I guess   All things have to end I guess   Just let go      In this one enchanted place   we're back where we began...