I cross the river and I cross the stream and then I dream
Of a land by the sand where no human hand has ever been
Where birds fly high in a wide blue sky and the church bells chime
In time like a place in the dream of a face in a scene in a book
By a bubbling brook where a lady in a veil is drawing out ale
And a little boy sits on a swing
A chest full of gold in a story once told
Where an old woman sat cross-legged on a mat dreaming a dream by a stream

And then the dwarf fell into the well and landed in hell
Where the fires burned high into the sky and the broken souls cried and asked the lord Why a face peered from under a beard from a place behind a screen covered in green
Where the spirit was gone and the song it was wrong and the dancing was simply obscene
And I thought of naught from a very high spot looking down from a dream
And I wondered was it I who had seen?