we could smell the faeries' footprints
throughout the dew-drenched twilight air
though balance was difficult, if you stood still
bold ones would alight on your hair

and i haven't been so lucky
they don't seem to come around here
cuz imagination's long-lost creation
isn't compatible with fear

lovers who burn and
lovers who dream
are lovers who share
...

though my heart breaks
for the same things as yours
will the ember be still burning
if i can't see what it burns for

if dreams are the language of the soul
and it's my heart that translates
if i come to, and just be, on the mountain,
it may be that which decides my fate