Ghost of a dream

I am the ghost of a dream long dead,

chained in the dungeon of your heart

A fettered fantasy locked in your head

retained as a mummified storybook part

 

You dream of a savior with a slaves behavior

You say from any old soul could fulfill this goal

But with their failure they fall out of favor

Only a shiny knight's role can you cajole

 

You gave up fairy-tales as a child

Straw can not be spun into gold

You pull nature's flowers, as weeds reviled

Why must even God be controlled?

 

So until it can be said that the last ghost has fled,

I'll sound the knell of this phantom bell

Crying “Bury your dead, from them beautiful flowers are fed

So release me from the spell so fell of your wishing-well”