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.