Can it be the sun descending o'er the level plain of water or the Red Swan floating, flying wounded by the Magic Arrow? Staining all the waves with crimson, with the crimson of its life-blood, filling all the air with splendor, filling all the air with plumage? [...] O'er it the Star of Evening melts and trembles through the purple, hangs suspensed in twilight, walks in silence through the heavens...

Follow the light that glows
Through your bedroom window,
Tonight, the fading twilight.
There's a hollow deep in the woods,
Where you know you're crazy to go,
Not even meant to know there are...
Pictures in the dark, I see all around,
Voices calling underground;
And I'm watching the stars since the world was found...
One, two, three...

You're out in the cold,
Sometimes,
As far as you can see,
Misty.
You want to run
Into the sun,
The road is lost,
Sand shifty.
But suddendly, out of the blue,
Some kind of magic
Pushes you through!
You don't know when,
How or why,
But someday can take off, fly!