In the depths of tent city
In the tall skinny pines
An electric blue mist
Turns the shadows to lines

The music's distorted
The spirits are bright
And colors are gathering
Contrasting with night

In one of the tents
A blanket-heap lies
Where eyes wide awake
Will miss the sunrise

We're all safe and comfy
Away from the dew
As soft golden sunshine
Comes filtering through

There's magic in the hair
Of a wizard asleep
Where purple is natural
And sunlight is deep

I unzip the doorway
And open it wide
Inhale the fresh air
And go barefoot outside

The people on hammoks
That swing to and fro
Are unlike the clouds
That have places to go

As I watch them sail
Like great wooden ships
My heart leaps up
And flies through my lips

My breath's being stolen
In a most welcome way
As I stand in the mud
And remember that day