It was the night before,
When all through the world,
No words, no dreams

Then one day,
A writer by a fire
Imagined all of Gaia

Took a journey into a childless heart...

A painter on the shore

Imagined all the world
Within the snowflake on his palm
A dream of poetry,

I'll tell is over
Cutting in,
Falling back in to the stars...


I am the voice of never, never land,
The innocence of dreams from every man,

I am the empty grave of Peter Pan,
A soaring kite against the blue, blue sky,
Every chimney, every moonlit sight

I am the story that will read you real,
Every memory that you hold dear


I am the journey,
I am the destination,
I am the whole mad tale

That grieves you
Away to taste the night,
Free and loose we fly!

Follow the madness,
How do you know what's real?


Imaginarium, a dream emporium!
Caress the tales
And they will read you real

A storyteller's game,
Inside he flicks the gate
The calling heart

Is a limitless chest of tales...

I am the voice of never, never land,

The innocence of dreams from every man,
I am the empty grave of Peter Pan,
A soaring kite against the blue, blue sky,

Every chimney, every moonlit sight
I am the story that will read you real,
Every memory that you hold dear


I am the voice of never, never land,
The innocence of dreams from every man,

Searching heavens for another earth...