there is a land not far from the ears of sound the eyes of sight can't see it's over the trees you'll be there by tomorrow's breeze few people get there quick by their chosen road they don't know it quicker to go by natural velocity there is a wall of doubt surrounding everything that's there children fair they ride there on the dreamy mare and at the great big gate waiters wait they must fill the form denounce the norm they are torn twixt praise and scorn and in the dawning dawn yawners yawn not knowing they've been or they've seen what they've seen or never seen