Somewhere out there beyond the clutch of hands,
there's a keep, that seems to sleep, beneath the sands
of tide and time, but surely mine,
my field of dreams.
...
My Field Of Dreams
Somewhere out there beyond the clutch of hands,
there's a keep, that seems to sleep, beneath the sands
of tide and time, but surely mine,
my field of dreams.
Somewhere out there, beyond this sphere, of reality,
of contained intention, of unmindful capricity,
designed from above, an retreat from havoc, charged with love-
My field of dreams.