When it all comes true
Just the way you planned
Its funny but the bells dont ring
Its a quiet thing
When you hold the world
In your trembling hand
You think youd hear a choir singing
But it is a quiet thing
There are no exploding fireworks
Wheres the roaring of the crowds
Maybe it is the strange new atmosphere
Way up here among the clouds

There wont be trumpets or balls of fire
To say hes coming,
No roman candles, no angels choir
No sound of distant drumming,
He may not be the cavalier
Tall and graceful, fair and strong,
Doesnt matter just as long as he
Comes along

But not with trumpets or lightning flashing
Or shining armor,
He may be daring, he may be dashing
Or maybe hes a farmer,
I can wait, whats another day?
He has lots of hills to climb
And a hero doesnt come till
The nick of time

Dont look for trumpets or whistles tooting
To guarantee him,
There wont be trumpets, but sure as shooting
Youll know him when you see him

Dont know when, dont know where,
I cant even say that I care
All I know is the minute you turn
And hes suddenly there
There wont be trumpets
There are no trumpets
Who needs trumpets?
Happiness comes in on tiptoe
Well what dya know
Its a quiet thing
A very quiet thing