Without a wish, without a will, I stood upon that silent hill And stared into the sky until My eyes were blind with stars and still I stared into the sky.

Did anyone ever have a boring dream?

Some things have to be believed to be seen.

Time, you old gipsy man, Will you not stay, Put up your caravan Just for one day?

Without a wish, without a will, I stood upon that silent hill And stared into the sky until My eyes were blind with stars and still I stared into the sky.

I saw with open eyes, Singing birds sweet, Sold in the shops, For the people to eat, Sold in the shops of, Stupidity Street.

God loves an idle rainbow, no less than laboring seas.