There are stories we tell
No, songs that we sing
of mountains and cowboys and dreams

A million stars in the dark
And the sweet meadowlark
When everything was just as it seemed

With Fireflies at night
And games by moonlight
They are simple songs of simple things

We schemed and planned
And built kingdoms of sand
For our daisy chain crowns made us kings

We sing songs of skies
that stretch to forever
And remember nights just as long

And every new day
Was a new chance to play
We wrap these things up in our songs.

We sigh sadly and sing
of how we lost everything
And left our adventures untried

Of all of our sweetness
And all of our joy
And all of the tears that we cried

We sing for nostalgia
We sing for our loss
And we sing for the dreams of our youth

We carry those dreams
and our childhood plans
With these songs, the last of our proof

That these things existed,
That we'd ever resisted
The call for us to grow up and move on

Past these childish things,
Our toys and our dreams,
To embrace our adulthood and beyond.

AcB 3.23.00