I think that maybe I'm dreaming. I smell cinnamon and spices. I hear music everywhere. All around kaleidoscope of color. I think that maybe I'm dreaming. Maids pass gracefully in laughter. Wine coloured flowers in their hair. Last call from lands I've never been to. I think that maybe I'm dreaming. Some flash on a soda of prism. Bright diamonds on the ladies flashing. Eyes catch on a shiny prism. Hear ye the crying of the vendors. Fruit for sale wax candles for to burn. Fires flare soon it will be night fall. I think that maybe I'm dreaming
Roger McGuinn
