In a wishing well dreams were made, and flowers bloomed on a winters day. Take me there. And I’ve cried so many times that for the past I threw in a dime. Tell me, do you care, when my world is in despair.
Oh Morn, when I awake from this somber sleep; I know the days will have no peace, not for me. As rainbows start to fade away and dreams forget to take their place amongst reality that’s when I’ll stop throwing dimes into that wishing well and take back what is mine.