I long to exist in a world of folklore
Where Witches fly by as Ravens quoth nevermore
I wish to belong to a place deep in imagination
When Werwolves are damned and Baron Frankenstein is famed for his creation
I yearn to wake up in a land of make believe
There Cthulhu waits behind stars as Fairies dance and weave.
You've read those lines and probably scoffed
My ridiculous ideals are not to be held aloft
But in a world where we're dying with every breath
Why shouldn't fantasy and folly stop me thinking about death?
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