I used to believe in things I could not see
They were there, how could they not be?
They were like the scents on the wind
Very real but never to be pinned
Down, and given a real name or title
For mundane men to fill a boring recital
I used to trust in the magic of sound
It flew through the air, vibrations all around
It filled up the lungs of those who want to share
The joys of each moment both sorrow filled and fair
It echoes long after the giver is gone
In the sounds of notes tinkling they still live on
They still write messages to we who live
They gave all that they could ever give
I used to believe if I wished hard enough
Nothing was impossible, no problem too tough
I would just imagine things straight into being
Paint them like the dreams I kept seeing
Pluck them from the roses and stars up above
Pass them on in packages of love
Leave them on the street for the common man to find
Dream them up day and night, keeping them in mind
One day I would wave the thoughts about and all around
Then thrust them onto the ivory to create a perfect sound
Now I know deeply the things I cannot see
I know the loss if they are not to be
I know the sounds and melodies are true
They are the only answer to meeting you
I know that when I wish on my dreams it is not in vain
It brings a little bit more hope, and takes away some pain
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