All the world has gone to bed when it once was,

It was sprinting in a meadow of raining daisies,
It was the ending of a fable,
It was the chorus of my favorite song,
It was swimming up to the surface of the water.

And i mastered the art of yearning,
seeking something made believe,
and it was almost like writings in the sky,
almost like sandcastles in the beach,

Shortlived and sweet,
Ideal in a moment.