She doesn't want you to know,
but when you're gone,
she dreams she has long flowing hair that shines like the sun.
She goes off to her secret place that fills all her need,
a place where he doesn't fight with her,
a place where she doesn't cry tears of pain,
a place where they don't turn her away,
a place where all the bad is gone.
Little pixies like to comb and decorate her hair,
while they whisper secrets in her ear,
secrets of the universe that nobody else is fit to hear.
She thinks not much of going home,
she likes it better where she is now,
looking at everything from a distance,
on her cloud of fairytale land.
