2.

You tell her that and she says

Futile are the matters of the world dreamer

You dream and lose yourself

To who, to what?

I talk to her and I can see

She only weeps on my knee

If I were to ever understand I’d tell you

Go dream, listen to her

Tell her she’s wrong

But who would know?

For we’re all just passing by

Prisoners of these streets

No walls no doors

No boundaries and yet no roads.

Come feel her

She’s here, everywhere

You’ll see someday

I only say you mustn’t dream

She says these are futile matters of the world dreamer.