Fly high above the clouds

On the wings of a dream

I hear your whisper loud

Or so it seems



Down in the shadow land

Where the sun never beams

I touch your slender hand

Or so it seems



It seems as though the world is such a place

Where we will have to treasure every trace of grace we find

Behind the walls below the ceiling

And its all inclined to give me such a bad, bad feeling



Run through the meadow land

Through the fast-flowing streams

I feel you near at hand

Or so it seems