Watch a blue bird flutter
Watch it over the gutter
He'll fly to begin
Something we call: Imagine

Watch them sing and dance
Under a soft trance;
We like to call dream,
Under the moon's beam

For all his life he will fly
Believing that he won't die
Unless he neglects his flight
To the eternally bright light

Until one day he descends
To the earth's bitter ends
Giving his wings an inflammation.
Don't worry just keep in mind: This is imagination