The light, it dances. It bursts and flows through the field. The flowers turn their faces towards the sun.
We are free, children dancing in the grove.
For so long we forgot how to play. Our memories remind us and it feels better than before. We can't help our bursting souls—so we fly. This is heaven, our waking melody.
We learned early on that we are not chosen. Life spins and spins in selfish circles, never asking who we are.
So we pack our bags and sail away. Deep into the night we go, following only stars. Love guides our feet, pulls us along.
We’re deep now, buried in the woods. Magic swallows us whole.
With every sunrise and holy night, we age 100 years. Our days have meaning once more. We dance and dance and dance, never afraid to live again.