Long ago, upon a mythical mountain, lived a legendary bird
A beautiful, golden bird but born with only one wing
And so she must join her mate before she can fly

High up, from the top of a great tree, she watches and waits
By day she is surrounded by a heavy fog
But at night she can see the stars

Alone, across the valley, he waits for her
Surrounded by the same dense fog
At night he wonders at the stars

They grow old, alone, day by day watching and waiting, unable to fly
They fear that life is passing them by without the promise of love
Sometimes they question, “Could the gods be so cold?”

The god of the valley hears all of their sorrows and sees their offerings of tears
But he knows if he pulls down his blanket of fog they may fall into despair
When they finally see how far apart they really are

He means well, but the god, in all of his wisdom, has committed an injustice to them
He has no knowledge of what it means to die, and what that means to love
To them it is better to know than to spend a lifetime wondering

They say that anyone who hears their song will have a broken heart.