Eleven
Eleven.
No Stranger Thing has come to pass,
On mountain ridge or lowland path,
Through summer haze or wintry glare,
As dusk does offer her final dare:
“Come walk with me”, she beckons on,
Blinding all eyes that look too long,
“Follow me into tomorrow’s song,
We’ll dance and laugh, we get along,
Down here in the sunset of today,
Make haste, dear Dreamer, make haste.
No Stranger Thing has come to pass,
On mountain ridge or lowland path,
Through summer haze or wintry glare,
As dusk does offer her final dare:
“Come walk with me”, she beckons on,
Blinding all eyes that look too long,
“Follow me into tomorrow’s song,
We’ll dance and laugh, we get along,
Down here in the sunset of today,
Make haste, dear Dreamer, make haste.