If I could sing like the poets and kings of this world,
of I could rise like the wind or the tides of the sea,
I would sing you to sleep my love with sweet melody.
And let you dream away till the morning light returned again to take you away from me.

If I could speak with the tongues of the masters of old,
if I could tame all the fleeting perceptions I hold,
would I stand in the marketplace before you
to be shouted down without any warning at all, to be stood by the wall
and shot by the man in blue?

If I could run with the grace of a sun-colored stallion,
if I could fly like the great silver jets in the morning,
if I caused the wind to change with one wave of my hand
and if I could play the final symphony and set it free would it mean anything to you?

If I could stand like a rusty old man in his armor,
if I could ride the steed that he rode in his time, I would turn his head away to the river
and let him wander through the meadow grass, wild and free for everyone to see.

If I could sing like the poets and kings of this world,
of I could rise like the wind or the tides of the sea,
I would sing you to sleep my love with sweet melody.
And let you dream away till the morning light returned again to take you away from me.

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