There is a place in my mind
where there are ropes made of vine
hanging down from the moon,

supporting a swing,
covered in flowers that sing,
I'd love to go back there soon.

His lover, so fair,
who makes her home there,
has wings that shimmer with light.

While he is asleep,
in dreams so deep,
she runs to me every night.

Transcend with me.
Make yourself believe,
and maybe you will visit me too,

in my grand delusions
the sweetest illusions
will finally make themselves true.