I am old, I am weak, and have few power.
Of what has gone - I dream.
But God's eternal, life is right
And chariot - on weels.
Dont ask too much of me - I'm old
And much I gave away.
Much blood was gushing through my throught,
But now I'm chilled to death.
Now in my mind is paradise
And light, although I'm poor.
Dont ask too much of me - I'm far
From being God, I'm human.
I'm now ready for the last
Of jumps - to snatch your throught.
Akella's old, but he will match.
Of rest he dreams? - oh, no!