My father told me, he told me, "Son,
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There was one year in my life, I felt so close to God."
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He said, "I lost my way on and off again
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Since that time oh but you can be sure.
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When my well runs dry I return
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To the reservoir."
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This life is a river, cruel and then kind
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Yes it can cradle or kill you, protect you or leave you to die
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I said, the river runs cold and merciless
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Headlong past every shore
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But in the end it returns by and by to the reservoir
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Oh my body's battered
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Oh my soul is anything but pure
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So I go drawing from the reservoir
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Heaven is a perfect blue reflection of the reservoir
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It's a perfect blue reflection
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More perfect than perfection
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We're born into this life our bodies glistening from the reservoir
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Our bodies shiny with the water
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Each of us heaven's sons and daughters
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I said:
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Between that moment and the journey's end
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We lose the knowledge that we had back then
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Innocence like sunlight
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Sunlight falling on the field in which we gather
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The field that gathers up our hearts
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And leads them homeward past the stories of the sycamores
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Sense of wonder, over yonder lies the reservoir
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My father told me, he told me "Son,
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There was one year in my life
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I felt so close to God."
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He said he felt so close to God
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Now he's returning to the reservoir
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He's always returning to the reservoir
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I guess we're all just returning to the reservoir.
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Reservoir
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The Gathering Field |