Fairytale

(альбом: Roger Whittaker Sings... - 1971)

The first of the sun rays are cast on my home of pine needles
As I wake to the sounds of the wood from my dandelion bed
And I gaze through my small cobweb curtains, down through the arches
That are made from the wings of the bees and the moths that are dead

Fairytale children are dancing like jewels in the morning
Caterpillar skin boots and green velvet suits catch the sun
The butterfly aeroplanes land on a runway of roses

And the policemen cockroaches are standing by watching the fun
I hear three bluebells ringing in a steeple of heather and roses
I can hear them so clear as I glide by on dragonfly wings
And the gamekeeper fairy who lives in a mushroom nearby

Plays a lute made of pinewood and oak and plucks cotton wool strings
The last of the sun rays are leaving the floor of the wild wood
As the phantom black beetle arrives on the wings of the bat
The grasshopper coachmen are harnessing mice to my carriage

And the four coach light fireflies are put into place by the rat
Farewell to the Appleseed pavements and moss covered roadways
The tall mushroom castles, fairytale children and all
I may never again chance to fly upon dragonfly wings
Or wake where the morning sun shines on a pine needle wall