there is a land not far from the ears of sound 

the eyes of sight can't see

it's over the trees

you'll be there by tomorrow's breeze



few people get there quick by their chosen road

they don't know it quicker to go

by natural velocity



there is a wall of doubt surrounding

everything that's there

children fair

they ride there

on the dreamy mare



and at the great big gate

waiters wait

they must fill the form 

denounce the norm

they are torn

twixt praise and scorn



and in the dawning dawn

yawners yawn

not knowing they've been

or they've seen

what they've seen

or never seen