Doorkeeper, doorkeeper,
where have the kids gone?
No songs from the pasture
echo with their sound,
no wide open gate
beckon freedom and friend,
nor cries in the distance
attract the free man.
Stillness walks the forest
where sorrow now stands.
Doorkeeper, doorkeeper,
look yonder the blue
the hairs of the children
cascade down the hill.
They follow the man with
a flute and a tune.
No lips soft and tender
will call out for you,
fair maiden, to play
among white lily fields.
Doorkeeper, doorkeeper,
no hope is all lost.
The boy who walks slowly
is left far behind,
the crutches he leans on
is worn out with time.
So guard him with kisses
upon his forehead
the sweetness of heaven
sleeps soundly in bed.
Doorkeeper, doorkeeper,
no hope is all lost.
The boy who walks slowly
is left far behind,
the crutches he leans on
is worn out with time.
So guard him with kisses
upon his forehead -
the sweetness of heaven
sleeps soundly in bed.