Walking blind through the wardrobe and into the night,
A streetlamp shines on a winter scene frozen in time,
Something is drawing you that can melt all the ice and the gloom and will set the whole world right,
There’s a flame burning steady and bright in the lion’s eye,
In the lion’s eye.
To see his face, catch a glimpse of the golden mane, is never safe,
But you know that he’s good just the same,
You can’t help but look away from the strength of his gaze,
Burning through what is frozen in your soul,
Feel the streams begin to flow in the lion’s eye,
In the lion’s eye.
Deeper magic from long before,
At the sound of his roar death itself will be working backwards now,
Turning everything around in the lion’s eye,
In the lion’s eye, in the lion’s eye,
In the lion’s eye.
