They live in a world where no one can follow
A world of danger and mystery
A world where they rule with triumphant power
But the price is not one to be taken lightly.
This is the world of Imagination
A world they created all on their own
This is a world of wonder; but listen
For the price that they pay is laid out in stone.
They pay for the magic, they pay for the mist
They pay for the love each has for this place
They pay for each ogre, they pay for each knight
They pay for the time spent in velvet and lace.
But what care they for the price of their souls?
What do they care, when they have all this?
Why should it matter; they have their WORLD
And Imagination is a precious gift.
But a gift it is not, though it may seem to be
The price, as I said, is laid out in stone
And not even their fancied magical powers
Can break that rock; the world's not their own.
They live in a world where no one can follow
A world of danger and mystery
This is their world, but not theirs any longer
Now it waits...for all eternity.