If dreams can’t come true, then why not pretend?
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I guess in some ways I’m trying to get home too.
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Children, it saddens me that you don't wish to stay here with us
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Led through the mist by the milk-light of moon
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Grow tiny seed, you are called to the trees
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Over the treetops and mountains Over the blackened ravines
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But where have we come, and where shall we end?
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This journey is a long one. It'll take you all around. Life rushing by your window before it lays you down
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And over the bulrushes' swaying, to pluck at a pair of heartstrings.
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There is only the forest.
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The loveliest lies of all
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