Starving artist,
Hungry and cold,
Dive in a fountain
Of wishes and gold
Counts fifteen bucks
In quarters and cents
Steals wishers' lucks
To pay for her rents
But she hopes for the best
That all of those wishes
Were already blessed

And that marauder of dreams,
of wishes, of love,
She paid back in gleams
Silver spilling from glove

And those wishers?
Well, they had their fortunes
of hearts reunited
of kisses goodnight
of beds warm and cozy
and dreams taken flight

All but a handful
Remained in her pocket,
and never again saw the sun