That's how she flies,
In bright saffron dreams 'cross harlequin skies, on rice paper wings,
She lassos the moon,
Brush, pallets and paints clutters her room with God, angels, and saints.

Thieves here to steal her thunder,
Crowding her world of wonder,
I fear they've got her number.

And here's what she needs: swings, ladders, and slides, doors in the trees, stars in her eyes, a song for the queen, curtsies and bows, castles and kings, a head in the clouds.

Thieves here to steal her thunder,
Crowding her world of wonder,
I fear they've got her number.

But that's how she flies,
In bright saffron dreams 'cross harlequin skies, on rice paper wings.