It is magic; pure pleasant purple-dotted
Oddities in the reflecting pool of our imaginations
Yet is it so absurd to believe in a second in time
Where words mean something and love and rhyme?

I ponder in a candy land upon a sleepy pink hill
And floating one-eyed people tumble around and spill
Out the words that make them real and who they are
But you and I should rise beyond and float amongst the stars.
For the pages of hearts and wet mouths cry
And the cotton-clothed blanket lets us warm and dry
So can’t we simply stay in our warmth so long at peace?
I never want the enchanted feeling of your being to ever cease.