Let me tell you a story
Of a princess on a hill
From a children's drawing
Or a dreamer's quill
Green the grass as is the tree
Brown the earth and blue the sea
Yellow sun and daisies be
A red brick house with windows three

And there she stood up on her hill
A froggy self approached to kneel
Its heart recalling a long gone thrill
Her eyes when open shone so bright
And when they closed, oh what a sight
As the painter's watchful flight
Nose to nose, chin to chin
The optical vase was never seen
A fairytale moment it has been

And in that moment I could feel
My chosen faith has lost its zeal
The chosens' fate could go on still
While I remain up on your hill

But then we came back to the ground
Accepting distance since each was bound
Weeping softly without much sound
Yet the windmills go round and round

I found routine is tightly strung
Perhaps it's good the bell has rung
Though this was not our mother tongue
I know a happy song we sung.