It was the night before, When all through the world, No words, no dreams Then one day, A writer by a fire Imagined all of Gaia Took a journey into a childless heart...
A painter on the shore Imagined all the world Within the snowflake on his palm A dream of poetry, I'll tell is over Cutting in, Falling back in to the stars...
I am the voice of never, never land, The innocence of dreams from every man, I am the empty grave of Peter Pan, A soaring kite against the blue, blue sky, Every chimney, every moonlit sight I am the story that will read you real, Every memory that you hold dear
I am the journey, I am the destination, I am the whole mad tale That grieves you Away to taste the night, Free and loose we fly! Follow the madness, How do you know what's real?
Imaginarium, a dream emporium! Caress the tales And they will read you real A storyteller's game, Inside he flicks the gate The calling heart Is a limitless chest of tales...
I am the voice of never, never land, The innocence of dreams from every man, I am the empty grave of Peter Pan, A soaring kite against the blue, blue sky, Every chimney, every moonlit sight I am the story that will read you real, Every memory that you hold dear
I am the voice of never, never land, The innocence of dreams from every man, Searching heavens for another earth...