In the mystery land of the night, Where we would meet and we could take flight, Our words would form through the keys and you would come and beg me "please will you play with me?" And so we would play making up stories in everywhich way. Playing roles that we may never take, knowing everything that we were pretending was fake. But none the less we would still play and your words would come to me whispering to me during the day. One day we may cease to pretend Our mystery land of the night may end, and turn into something I dare not say, but until then I'll continue to play. |
 |