The Pillow King is overlord in both fools and dreams.
Swimming those sweet currents of the ink black nocturne streams
Eats he up the starlight with his boiling hungry shroud
And to me he lends a dark hand, as he speaks silent and aloud:
"Come, come, sweet songbird,
We have such things to see
Fly, fly, my wonder,
In my kingdom, you are free.
"Close your eyes and journey, we must cross the night-time sea
We'll meet the Moonlight Queen and seek her orchard trees.
Grand branching ancient woods, thick with sparkling fruits,
Perhaps she'll let you venture, and step among their roots.
"Come, come, sweet songbird,
We have such things to see
Fly, fly, my wonder,
In my kingdom, you are free."
A silverfish our vessel, tracing each dark cloud-reef
The earth is now our canopy: cloud countries in relief.
I ride beside the Pillow King and drink the drought of sounds.
Ancient rumblings from the deep, and again his song resounds:
"Come, come, sweet songbird,
We have such love to live
Fly, fly, my wonder,
And take what's yours to give.
"And at the shore of my kingdom, look you at the land,
built of hope and virtues with kindly earnest hands.
And looking at the earthsky, see your home above
A cold and distant city-star, which would you rather love?
"Come, come, sweet songbird,
Now join my quiet land
Seek, seek, my wonder,
And sift away your sand."
"Your lover stands beyond the light, at the edges of the beach
The one you always sought for, now in easy reach."
'Join me now my darling!' Joy is the song I sing.
But low intones the somber voice of the tyrant Pillow King:
"Come, come, sweet songbird,
You can love but never cross,
Seek, seek and wonder,
For I am the everlasting lost."
The Pillow King is overlord of both fools and dreams.
Swimming those sweet currents of the ink black nocturne streams
Eats he up the starlight with his boiling hungry shroud
And for those hours of his reign, I cherish all I've found.
But neither his grand enticement nor the riches at his hands,
Would make me join his kingdom for I belong to sun-kissed lands.
