Call me Don Quixote,
For I am a dreamer on a journey,
Travelling forth with noble cause
To see the wondrous sights
And save fair maidens.
And though you say,
There are no such things as Giants,
The Dragons are all dead,
That a Knight I'll never be,
I tell you this:
The journey itself is magical
In a way you will never know,
For all of your logic is but a crutch,
A way to keep to safe Roads.
And so you will never understand
That windmills were never windmills,
But Giants all along.
So call me Don Quixote,
For the Surreality I perceive
Is by far the greater than the Reality
By which you are deceived.