Imaginary World
My fingertips run,Along the smooth, cold keys,
I can create anything,
Anything I please,
I play a soft tune,
Like a babies lullaby,
Then silly me,
Begins to cry,
The mahogany wood,
In all its prime,
The feelings so good,
I loose track of time,
You can be anywhere,
If you let yourself go,
Across the world,
Or a place you don’t know,
My fingers gracefully,
Glide over the wood,
In my happy place,
Playing this song ‘cause I could.
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