Dancing on the feet of a miracle while winter's growing cold Life seems almost cynical in the gardens of green and gold While the apples of eden are calling me I sometimes just can't believe That man was made a replica of someone elses dream Away to where the rainbow's just a stoney throw away Where kings and queens a**emble, just to greet the world and say: Bear witness to the princess as she lights her precious dome, and bluebells call you home Home, home, bluebells calling home Home, home, bluebells calling-- home to all the broken melodies is a home for all the sunny skies To rhyme without a reason endlessly just look at how the bu*ter flies When the evensong sing through the mezzanine and the birds interrupt the trees They were talking in the forest hatching up a scheme When winter comes they'll up and leave To find the swirling oceans made of conscience and of clay The weight of all this nonsense we must carry down the way Towards the great reunion of the apple and the crow Come on it's time to go... Home, home, bluebells calling home Home, home, bluebells calling home Home, home, bluebells calling home Home, home, bluebells calling home Tell the tree of sunlight, tell the day of rain Listen for the flutter, rising up again Better off without a suitcase is the mind Grasping at a moon beam, counting out the time I was only eight when magic touched my ear Now it seems the only thing I hear Is the everlasting chorus of a neverlasting dream Locked inside my fantasy So listen up campers along with the rain the promise of sunshine again With all that is pretty and all that is blue the bluebell shines for you Now somebody sold my blank endeavour to the creatures that walk on the moon In time you'll see the world at the speed of light as we all set stones in bloom Home, home, bluebells calling home Home, home, bluebells calling home Dancing on the feet of a miracle while winter's growing cold Life seems to be almost cynical in gardens of green and gold Dancing on the feet of a miracle while winter's growing cold Life seems to be almost cynical in gardens of green and gold The light has come to free this song of anything that goes The featherless magician shakes his head and tells us slow The poet down on main street can't believe his sunken eyes A calling from the skies! I've never seen a brighter sun Than the one the crow incorporated Into his painted rivers three As the apple reunites the broken melody Blue is my direction home into a world where every ghostly figure Flutter round the cosmic tare as we're dancing on the feet of miracles everywhere-- Where do flowers go, when all is said and done They hope and pray, to find a second sun With golden shores, and amber painted skies Where poets run, and bluebells call home... I've never seen a better day than the one that drove the clouds away Forever from this holy earth and the bluebells simple words just resting in the dirt And finally it seems to me this has got to be the place indeed I'm just sitting in the gardens green watch the blue above and simply dream... my dreamy dream Where do flowers go, when all is said and done They hope and pray, to find a second sun With golden shores, and amber painted skies Where poets run, and bluebells call home...