Know that something very strange Is happening to my brain. I'm either feeling very good Or else I am insane. The seeds of doubt you planted Have started to grow wild But feel that I must yield before The wisdom of a child
And it's love you bring, No that I can't deny, With your wings, I can learn to fly, Sweet young thing.
People try to talk to me Their words are ugly sounds But I resist all their attempts To try and bring me down Turned on to the sunset, Like I've never done before. And I listen for your footsteps And your know upon the door.
And it's love you bring, With dreams of bluer skies All these things, When I seem them in your eyes Sweet young thing.