There once was a man who'd sell you a dream
He'd spin you a story from silken strings
Weaving visions you've never seen
One silver dollar would buy you a dream
Oooh...
His loom wove patterns of lives intertwined
Stories to move your heart and your mind
Adventures that wander through faraway lands
Inventions that alter the lives of man
Dreams
Dreams for sale, dreams for sale..."
One winter the shop took a turn for the worse
People doubted his dreams, questioned their worth
Fewer customers came through his doors
No-one remembers what dreaming is for
He closed up his shop and grew cold in the streets
Begging for scraps and peddling dreams
His beautiful stories threadbare and thin
No-one could spare a penny for him
His body grew weak, his mind grew frail
Unraveling sanity starting to fail
And from his lips, cracked and pale
Repeated the words "Dreams for sale..."
He held in his hands his very last thread
He knew that this spot was his finishing bed
Then what he saw he could hardly believe
A little boy sitting and sewing a dream
Singing " Dreams
Dreams for sale, dreams for sale..."