I find it funny how here and now,
Letting my heart run wild is something I'll allow.
I would leave my future and forget my past,
For a fantasy life with you at last.
But that fantasy world would be in my head,
Make-believe in my heart, and not alive but dead.
It would exist in dreams, where nothing's as it seems,
And never in the real world, where the sky's sun gleams.
Is a heart so strong that it can leave all it has known,
Or so weak to abandon what it's life has shown?
If you asked me for your hand, I would say OK,
Even though I don't know you, or anything else to say.
Can a person inherently love too much perhaps,
Even people who are fake and exist as an imaginary lapse?
I want to be their friend, who they can call at any time,
And who sings them silently to sleep, with a bedtime rhyme.
Loving these things which aren't real, catches up in the end,
Where a heart stands lonely, and has no more room to bend.
Perhaps just a distorted mind, can create love out of thin air,
The root of this insanity, is having love but no one to share.
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