I often dream of a magical land Where the beaches rolled with sparkling sand The waters a calm clear diamond blue The sky always filled with magnificent hues The forests are thick with dancing trees Enchanted creatures roam wild and free When dark, the faerie lights come from the thickets Illuminating the night’s peace and quiet Occasionally the feared predator comes Searching for prey, not one but some They all would run to scatter and hide Waiting for the time to pass aside By morning the light creeps in again And one by one, they’d leave their dens To sing the bird’s early morning song The days seem short even when they’re long For there, in the land of dreams where dreams come true It’s there that the old seem bright and new
But I wake up in the reality of morning here In the world of sorrow and acid tears Where the waters flow with filth and dirt And every day more innocents get wrongly hurt All the flowers are dead, deprived of sun No living colours left, not even one The streets are filled with frightened ghosts Shadows slumped against burnt-out lampposts I trudge along through the lifeless parades Cowering in the safety of my shade Walking home alone to lie in bed Wondering what it would be like to be there instead And there, in the land of fantastical dreams Where the waters and skies all magically gleam There, even though it’s not the truth At least I can live in merry youth