Tapestry - Carole King
My life has been a tapestry

Of rich and royal hue;

An everlasting vision
Of the ever-changing view;

A wond'rous woven magic

In bits of blue and gold;

A tapestry to feel and see;
Impossible to hold.

Once amid the soft silver

Sadness in the sky,

There came a man of fortune;

A drifter passing by.

He wore a torn and tattered cloth
Around his leathered hide

And a coat of many colors;

Yellow, green, on either side.

He moved with some uncertainty

As if he didn't know

Just what he was there for
Or where he ought to go.

Once he reached for something
Golden hanging from a tree

And his hand came down empty.

Soon within my tapestry,

Along the rutted road,

He sat down on a river rock
And turned into a toad.

It seemed that he had fallen
Into someone's wicked spell

And I wept to see him suffer,

Though I didn't know him well.

As I watched in sorrow,
There suddenly appeared

A figure gray and ghostly

Beneath a flowing beard.

In times of deepest darkness

I've seen him dressed in black.

Now my tapestry's unraveling;

He's come to take me back.

He's come to take me back.