An ordinary face stares out a window frosted. it’s cold ou
tside and ordinary fingers trace geometric shapes against
the glass and ordinarily her mind’s at ease but on grey au
tumn days like these a question haunts and breaks the frag
ile peace
Can a bauble ruled by whim possbly be bought. be accepted
by the masses. framed and catalogued? cuz the dreamer neve
r wins its wings must wet and, withering. give away its sp
irit blown loosely in the wind
The misplaced faerie trying to land oh it cannot know where
to look the mystical heart can’t understand –
And suddenly the glass flings outward early morning air is
offered thick and drunk in – in by hope-starved lungs are
blood red lips and dragon laughter dreams of happy ever af
ter too unfit for ordinary minds?
CHORUS REPEAT
—————–
Ordinary
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