In a figurative savannah

A lion meets an abbot.

So the man closes his eyes

And imagines it's a rabbit.

All the wishing was in vain,

He never opened his eyes again.

When the feeble-minded fail

In the face of the great collision

Between the two worlds of fact and reverie,

When the intellect is frail

And longing blurs the vision,

Anything goes: goodbye reality.

A pious single mother

With chronically empty pockets

Had no job but a backyard

And a million buried in it

Or so at least she wished

Until her house was repossessed.

We hide in the comfort of wishful thinking

Accepting illusions not even blinking.

And at the end of a blissful day

We'll have wished our lives away.

When feeble minds collapse

In the face of the great collision

Between the two worlds of fact and reverie,

When the intellect is trapped

And longing blurs the vision,

Anything goes: goodbye reality.