Oh, little songbird,
you sing so sweetly,
so softly,
so soulfully,
in a way i only wish
i could achieve.
last night i dreamed
pleasant dreams,
in which pleasantries
are in wonderful abundance--
for naught but in dreams
are we free,
to freedom's fullest extent.
so i flew, this pleasant night,
soaring high over this world of hate
in which we live during
our agonizing hours of wake.
oh, little songbird,
is this how you live?
your soulful song of
satisfaction is too
happy for Gloom's daytime.
the next day i walked a path
in which Gloom has full reign.
i passed a tattered man,
in tattered clothes, who
smiled at me despite himself--
for naught but in the dark
can we see the light.
so i whistled, i whistled
a pleasant tune on this
Gloomy road, waving up to
the souls flying high above,
dreamers who will tomorrow
see the light.
oh, little songbird,
you sing so sweetly,
so softly,
so soulfully,
our tunes mix as one--
a dream and a reality.
