Dream my little ones while there still is time
for you inherit a world filled with hate and crime.
We have corrupted this land and that is true
now we bundle up our troubles and hand them to you.
Dream the dreams of the brave the dreams of the free
in your dreams you must find the strength which was not within me.
I have bowed down and worshipped many gods of stone
in my sins I am far, far from alone.
Gone are the days when honor was king
we treasure money and power above everything.
WE have spilled the blood of wisdom and the blood of truth
now we turn and hand this chaos to our precious youth.
How dare we sit and marvel at a younger generation seemingly gone mad.
Perhaps they can see what will be as well as what they could have had.
Have we stolen their dreams before they have slept?
Have we shed their tears before they have wept?
I beseech you with all the power of the brightest sunbeam
open your beautiful minds and dream children dream.
(c) 1997 Steven McKinley Underhill All Rights Reserved