Cramped in minds which know little,
Dreamt by ones without destiny.
It is a trade of illusions and lost dreams
Of snow melting in the greens,
And realities thriving in unreal scenes.
A loser's trade and yet a drug!
A fool's verse it be though,
Coslier than gold, dearer than blood!
Kept in thoughts beyond one's mind,
Scribbled by fools who are blind,
Blind to plights so much their own,
We call it pain, they call it home.
A fool's verse it remains,
That the ink stains to show,
That a trade of lost dreams it is;
A little beyond insanity to know.
Hitch your wagon to a fool's luck,
A moment of joy on the silverscreens,
Call it a loser's trade, a fool's drug,
Yet the saga of illusions and lost dreams..