An ordinary face stares out a window frosted. it's cold outside
And ordinary fingers trace geometric shapes against the glass
And ordinary her mind's at ease but on grey autumn days like these
Aquestion haunts and breakes the fragile peace
Can a bauble ruled by whim possibly be bought.
be accepted by the masses, framed and catalogued?
Cuz the dreamer never wins its wings must wet and,withering,
give away spirit Blown loosely in the wind
The misplaced faerie trying to and oh it cannot know where to look
The mysterical heart can't understand
And suddenly the glass fings outward early morning air is offered
Thick and drunk in - in by hope-starves lungs are
blood red lips and dragon laughter
Dreams of happy ever after too unfit for ordinary minds?
Can a bauble ruled by whim possibly be bought.
be accepted by the masses, framed and catalogued?
Cuz the dreamer never wins its wings must wet and,withering,
give away spirit Blown loosely in the wind