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You might wake up some morning |
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To the sound of something moving |
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Pass your window in the wind |
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And if you're quick enough to rise |
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You'd met the fleeting glimpse |
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Of someone's fading shadows |
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Out on a new horizon |
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You may see the boat in motion |
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Of a distant carib wind |
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And if you need press your ear |
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You might hear footsteps running |
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Through an open meadow |
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Do be so concern it will not harm you |
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It's only mistress doing something |
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I'm not sure of |
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Cross my dreams with myths and wonders |
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I'll take the brightest elusive butterfly of love |
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You might have heard my footsteps echo softly |
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Through the distant, from canyons of your mind |
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I might have even called your name |
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As I ran safely after something to believe in |
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You might have see me running |
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Through the long abandon ruins |
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Of the dreams you left behind |
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If you remember something |
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They're the brightest path to follow close |
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I remember dreaming |
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Do be so concern it will not harm you |
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It's only mistress doing something |
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I'm not sure of |
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Cross my dreams with myths and wonders |
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I'll take the brightest elusive butterfly of love |
