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I run along home the rain pouring down,
Evading reality with these dress up fairy wings,
looking for a world that cannot be found.
But not even wings can push away the world,
The same dark, dreary world that’s pushing against
all the little people like me.
Why can’t it be a world of beautiful things,
like daisies and raindrops and creatures with wings.
Why can’t we all laugh, and not have to cry,
and flowers should bloom and not have to die.
The children should play and dance in the spring,
and church bells should sound out their wonderful ring.
Who says that all the magical things,
like snow elves and kelpie and horses with wings,
can’t live is bright places like meadows and springs.
How come the blue jays will no longer sing,
and what ever happened to dreamers like me.