Mice dream of flying,
soaring high above the ground,
flying, flying, flying,
over the heads of countless dangers.
Up into the stars shining bright,
glowing, morphing into a silver spot of light.
But to no avail, falling, falling, falling,
back to reality, smashing hard upon the ground,
wary of the dangers who creep behind again.
Running, running, running,
never seem to run fast enough,
dodge, weave, burrow, wish to fly again.
Silver pool of light shines above,
its crystal tears shine around it.
But mice tears stain the ground,
crying, crying, crying,
forever bound, even in fake reality.
Suddenly wind, weightless consumes,
it's time to fly again.
Surging up through tails and feet,
it's coming fast almost time,
to soar through the sky again.
Wake.