Mr. Man in the Moon casting a mellow glow
the calming winds of destiny whisk softly by.
From a skyscraper penthouse, stars are resting low
and I see the glint of merriment in your eye.
A �Big Apple� dream, a Manhattan fantasy
a certain treasure trove of wonder and surprise.
Endless miracles, are sometimes meant to be
for would we ever orchestrate our grand demise.
A fantasy transcending ordinary dreams
a cherished staircase is ascending heaven high.
The prospects of romance, both treasured and supreme
Are like divinity, too precious to deny
Bow your head in tribute honor the Lord above
And bask in the glory of everlasting love.
Brian Bressler � June 12, 2000