The moon has a face like a clock on a wall. It shines down on us when the sky is black And leads us to our dreams.
A small sphere in the sky; Lights the way for many, Guides us where we cannot see, Carrying us to beautiful places.
No doubt you think me mad, For the moon is not alive, It has no face. It cannot take us anywhere. But it does.
And although the mind is the smallest prison, We are set free by the light of the moon. That which guards us while we sleep.