Midnight Music

Dreaming Boy

He strays far from his youth.
He stares far from the truth.
This rose garden he planted.
But the thorns, he never wanted.
So he burnt it down instead
Until the dream was dead.

With opened eyes he redirected sails.
Far away from those nails.
To a dream where all was well.
To earn the living he will sell.
The things money bought.
He loved it, well so he thought.
But he didn't like the bandit.
Who stole and then sold it,
So he drowned it all.
And so his dream did fall.

With that he adjusted his map.
And now he was going 'tip tap'
With his feet on the floors.
Where there were people to open the doors.
And so he found passion in dance.
But sadly wasn't his stance.
He found fright on the lights.
For the first time he was uptight.
So she packed up his shoes.
And threw his dream in a blues.

Since he was all gone.
He found a new form.
With the books of literature.
And definitely found it painted the picture.
But he found also boring.
These books were worth snoring.
So he locked them all up
And his dream was left stuck.

He fell tired of his journey
For the boy wasn't ready.
Learning the world was complicated at three years old.
For he was only dreaming that everything that glitters is gold...