The purple grass sways in the quiet wind.
The blue moon whispers its way around the bend.
The silent cicadas wait in their huts.
This is a place where the nights never end.

The dry rain keeps all inhabitants warm.
The never-ending roads lead their way to nevarland.
The rich smiling willow swerves her dance.
The nearest nymph takes the nearest hand.

No grown ups are allowed, not even some man children.
This is the perfect place where innocence can roam.
To the fairy folk they use this as a place of trance.
To them it is a place called ‘Home Sweet Home’.

Here is a place where the weary are never tired.
Where the spiteful sprites fulfill their games.
And the trolls are merry with all of the fun.
And the poor children are not cursed with their names.

Its all too perfect, too good to be true.
Why go back to plain, uneventful lives lived out on earth,
When one could spend eternal youth here.
And spend immortal summer days in gay mirth.

In a place like this, you can only have fun.
In a perfect place like this there are no rules.
Only those who are a bore dare to run.
Those who would leave suffer death as fools.