In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.
Thomas Carlyle
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Falling Into Fantasy
I'm sitting by the calm lake
And watch the setting sun
My feet are in the water
The journey's just begun
In the mist there is a boat and it's heading towards me
On the deck the lady's holding her hand and I agree
I'm falling into fantasy
The dream goes on
We are traveling in the nightfall
Until we stop somewhere
Descending into water
On dark and hazy stairs
Now she's leading me to the golden palace that lays ahead
She tells me I'm the one in her dreams and on her bed
I'm falling into fantasy
The dream goes on
I'm falling into fantasy
Drifting alone