I want to see the stars.
I want to be able to walk to the moon.
I want to say I love you.
These are all hopes and dreams that have faded.
They tell the stories that made us sing.
Now they are the nightmares that keep us awake.
The thought that the fire is no longer burning.
The things that were supposed to make us sweet.
Is now the most bitter fruit that hangs on our tree.
I just wish it will all grow again.
Misconception 