Dreaming Of A Way

“We were not given wings; we are not meant to fly
 Could no more visit the Moon than stop the Sun in the sky.”

So the doubters say, but Lucian is dreaming of a way.
Hold your tongues I pray, while Johannes conjures up a way.
Maybe we catch a waterspout ride, blown skyward in our barque
Maybe we cross a magical bridge, daemon-led in the dark.

“We were not given wings; we are not meant to fly
 Could no more visit the Moon than stop the Sun in the sky.”

So the doubters say, but Francis is dreaming of a way.
Hold your tongues I pray, Cyrano says he may know the way.
Maybe we bid the wild geese of Spain bear us beyond the blue
Maybe we trap the vapours of night, rise with the morning dew.

“We were not given wings; we are not meant to fly
 Could no more visit the Moon than stop the Sun in the sky.”

Mark well what I say, Konstantin is
Dreaming of a way, and Robert is
Dreaming of a way, and Hermann is
Dreaming of a way, and Werner is
Dreaming of a way…