Children are people who live in a land

Made of raindrops and puddles and pebbles and streams

Silently watching a twig as it sails

On a clear crystal pool to an island of dreams



There go a pair who have just built a city of mud

And it's real

They know that mud doesn't look very pretty

But ooh, how it feels



This little boy greets the snow with a smile

That little girl has discovered an isle made out of pillows

One little fellow is friends with the wind in the willows

All of them children and all are mysterious people



I can remember when I was a boy

That my bed was a ship that I sailed through the night

And I remember the world as a place

That was eager and loving and shiny and bright



Where is the boy who was friends with the rainbow

And once rode upon

Where is that shy and mysterious person

Oh where have I gone



I can remember I once said my prayers

But now I stand by while my children say theirs

Watching them kneeling

And I could cry that one day they'll forget

All that they're feeling

Oh, what a shame that our children should grow into peo...ple