Insecurities spouting from the pen threaten his will
When everything fits into place, the feeling is surreal
Antidotes for the dreaming heart lie upon a distant shore
One not reached by boat, nor of any use is an ore
A dreamer's hat has many stories yet to spell
Deep within his heart lie endless sagas of which to tell
One he's heard is of that fantasy so far away
Where the ocean is still a deep endless blue
And troubles don't quite exist in the light of day
The sweetest taste is that of the morning dew
He knows he has not been there, yet he yearns it so
He hasn't written the path that yet brings it to life
Building up the courage to leap where lovers go
He would have such a muse if he'd just take a wife
But broken his heart was, Left torn all about the ground
And though glue from heaven has mended it rightly in place
He must not make haste to give it away to another liar
One whose heart that doesn't burn as his does with great fire
Will never make a muse to write the great story of their life
About flying and falling and trusting in God above
About all of the little things and nothing at all
He sleeps at night with his head tucked under his hearth
Knowing that all of his imagination lay wasted if not put out in pen
That intentions amount to pennies or less when talked about in vain
He spins his dreamer's wheels towards the next brightest star
He heard about love in a movie, but he has never quite made it that far
The end you see is further away than you think
Waking up to the beginning again confuses the whole damn plot
He grew tired of rhyming and decided just to write
So long it took him to realize these simple truths
And that today's success would frame tomorrow's air
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