Once upon a time they wrote,
And I would stop and think,
About once upon a here and now,
Of people on the brink,
Of sinking into pages,
Tv shows or tracks,
Finding a safe haven,
And never coming back,
Now I'm not saying burn the book,
Or smash up your TV,
But substitutes for life and love,
Is not what they should be,
So when I ask about your day,
I do not want to know,
About the things you've read and seen,
Of people you don't know,
Of course I'm generalising,
These things have merit, true,
But when I ask about your day,
I want to hear of you,
So sometimes please put down your book,
And I'll put down my pen,
And hand in hand we'll step outside,
And live our lives again.