Listen for the call, the howling of the wolves
The Fading dreamers of the yesteryears
the sharp colours of the world have moved
fading, seeping, drying like the many youths

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop dreaming
The dreams of fame, of money, of love, of peace
Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop dreaming
The power of dreams, the youths have no inkling

Listen for the call, the call for the dreamers
The power of dreams basking in the full moon
Angels, devils searching for them
Fading silently as we forget the way to dream

Crawling, begging for the light of hope
Beggars, the youths, the dreamers of yesteryears have became
Victims of mainstreams finding themselves unable to cope
We slowly die, steadily from the world

—-
Another song, not much rhymes.