It’s a very big world for such a little boy.
Mercy Mary scared of shadow shows you to a chair.
And dons a morning spun from golden somethings sweet and pure
as light comes and dances in her hair.
And lines of strange new thought meander the mazes of your mind.
And as you wonder they wander in and freely come and go.
She shakes a sour angel dry and throws another.
Pretty soon, there’s not one thing you know.
Welcome to the real world.
Where you and I were born.
Where, even when you’re sleeping —
you’re dreamin’.
In the trees you see the promises Sunday morning made.
The moon’s a smiling fool above the lake.
And all is simply splendid. The shadows in the shade.
And all great things just happened by mistake.
So you follow the fooly bear across the ballroom floor.
The band is playing hazy as you make it to the door.
Just outside the night unfolds you could not ask for more.
It’s easy to be, as you can see, where you never been before.
Just a slight step to the side and it’s a different road.
Sometimes walking backwards get ya there.
I wonder what the caterpillar thinks of butterflies
awkwardly tumblin through the air.
It’s a very big world for such a little boy.
Pretty soon, you’ll see you’re far and wide.
Without you, a flower’s just a flower.
All its pretty comes from inside.