The old man's holding his hand fan And combs the water, makes it flat He's waiting for the midday's wind And then he moves his fan a lot I cast a stone and make a splash The water wrinkles and the old man Sadly flattens down the waves And then he said, before he died The water is your mirror now When smooth don't laugh at your reflection See how much fairy tale is left for you And pray to lose not thy salvation I cast a stone and make a splash The water wrinkles as in pain And then I take the old man's fan And sweep the water flat again And all around there's only sand And high above the sky's so far Sometimes I miss the old man's presence But I remember his wise lesson The water is your mirror now When smooth don't laugh at your reflection See how much fairy tale is left for you And pray to lose not thy salvation The water is your mirror now When smooth don't laugh at your reflection See how much fairy tale is left for you And pray to lose not thy salvation