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To paint the deserts blue and grey
with songs of open roads
to write dramatic scenes
for a stage beneath the eyelid
to make the moments pause
to freeze them for a while
with counterpoints of dreams...

when night and day unite
the secret tunes ignite...

this strange desire
this inner-mounting fire
stretching out life
with restless, beating hearts
this mystic engine,
this underlying surge
along the lonely miles,
along the highways from the soul...

to move and shake the world
with astounding thoughts
to weave the fabric of a profound dream
an enigmatic theme...

when you and I unite
the images ignite...

this strange desire
this inner-mounting fire
stretching out life to see what it means
this mystic engine,
this underlying surge
along the lucky miles
along the highways from the soul...

to paint the cities red and green
with songs of open roads
to make the moments pause
to freeze them for a while
with a vivid sense of change...

for each age is a dream that is dying
or one that is coming to birth... (A. o'Shaugnessy)

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