The whisper of a butterfly touches the skies around,
Purple lemons rolling down hills made of whispers.
Strange creepers dance beneath the twilight glow,
Colors that sing, colors that please—
Do you hear the gentle echo of broken dreams?
Tickle the stars, oh little girl lost in the sun.
Experience the caress, painted shadows blend into it—
Poisonous noise, a sweet serenade.
Do chocolate rivers run through your dreams?
Click here for paper flowers in a video game jungle.
Wish upon them when twilight's warmth sleeps,
(Do you dare ride the moonbeam carousel?)
Or return to the scent of candied rainbows.