sleep, my child,
drift upon the ether
in gentle mother's smile
as you rest beneath her

sleep, my child,
for there will come a day
when forces far from mild
will come out war to play

when the vicious and the terror
will tear each other apart
leaving nothing but a pallbearer
and a broken heart

till that day, my child, sleep
revel in your youth
dance among the woodbines' creep
the leaves of jagged tooth

amongst the mosses of spring and elves
sleep, my child, sleep,
for men will ever corrupt themselves
as the humble weep

and till the day when evil implodes
when all that's good survives
skip along the sleepy roads
where butterflies lead good lives

hide beneath the buttercup
for its shelter is more true
than all the falseness that's blown up
in world that waits for you