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.