Balanced against the ceiling, And lodged in earthy moss, There is a ladder to the sky. It leaves through the midnight window, And creeps in inky blackness, To a land of make-believe.
To a place of incomprehensible... Madness. Filled with creatures with horns and hooves, That speak the language of a thousand peoples. They come from a city of gold,
With dazzling spires and damsons, That never require saving. They are quite content. Princes are not allowed, Unless, of course, they have been licensed, By the court of fools.
The place is also filled with fleshy fruit, Sticky sweet, dripping with toxic juices, That quench the thirst, Of any that taste it.
At the far end of this strange country, There is a rainbow wall, Glittering and glimmering, Transparent and immovable. It is all very sensible to the insane.
And who could forget the lords and ladies, With no heads, And eye on their shoulders, And gaping mouths as navels. How beautiful they are! How charming their manners are,
But how dull is their chatter, There is nothing new to them. Avoid the shadows, however, For they will steal the children you do not have, And eat their skin off their glass bones - You must stay away from bridges.
So will you, traveller, come away with me? I will show you the ladder, To the place does not exist. And we will disintegrate into the morning air, Perhaps, we shall not return.