Once in a dream, was it real? did it seem
like a merry-go-round at the fair.
The merry-go-round sings as it swings,
and won’t stop for you, time doesn’t care.

Blessed with a girl and a ring, same old thing,
only this time no love could compare.
The ring, in the dream, at the fair makes me think
of the golden light shown in her hair.

Beauty untold, a delight to behold, and to
kiss and to touch and to share.
Could only I see through the greed hid in me,
by the lust of old jealousy’s stare.

This maiden of life might well be my wife,
had the knife of all envy been spared.
Reality’s ride heeds neither one’s side,
as it spins round and round down life’s stair.

I never did want such a dream to awake,
much less drop the gold ring at the fair.
The love for this girl , yet the same, I’m to blame,
and the tears through the years as still there.

The merry-go-round sings as it swings,
and won’t stop for you, time doesn’t care.
Once in a dream, was it real? did it seem
Life’s a merry-go-round at the fair.

July 1980