With skies painted green,
The grass, a bright maroon.
You want to see the things unseen,
So just grab the porcelain moon.

The grass is a bright maroon,
Speckled with black flowers.
So just grab the porcelain moon,
The ride goes on for hours.

Speckled with black flowers,
You view the land anew.
The ride goes on for hours,
But the moon, your hand slips through.

You view the land anew,
As you become a moonbeam.
For the moon, your hand slipped through,
You’re falling through your dream.

As you become a moonbeam,
You want to see the things unseen,
You’re falling through your dream,
With skies painted green.