There's a hand in my pocket Searching for change. There's a man in the mirror, His hair's turning grey. His first (?) crashing through the air, constant despair And I lost my copy of Vanity Fair. Now that you've come this far, (come this far) Can you accept who you are? (Who you are) Horizons With eyes staring wide open, an African child He taught me how to blink and I couldn't smile. Then I spoke to the silence drawn with a (?), fade with a laughter From the well of clear water, the remnants of hope echoed after Now that hating's been done (the hating's done) And you've no qualms with anyone (no qualms with anyone) Horizons