Colourful toucans, magic disposables
with pretty specks of dust, fallen pixies
and dreams of an escape.
take me back to that place.
I wanna go home, I wanna go home.

I miss that pretty, twisted place-
I miss that other half of me;
it seems to have detached,
leaving open wounds for me
to find zero comfort in.

Where reality exploded before our eyes
and travelling in teleportation devices
seemed so logical and the only method
of reasonable transport.

The world will not be crushed
by my fragile shaking hands
but I dream of the day it does.

Everything is just a dream
that is vanishing as I wake up now.
I don't wanna wake up, I don't wanna wake up.

I wanna stay in this place,
with fragile hands and the creatures
that are so tragically beautiful
with our minds as the creators.

I wanna stay here with these illusions
that have become our world.

I wanna stay here with you.