The Land of Make Believe

There's a land that is shiny, and washed by the tides of time. A land that is far away now. A land of make believe and rhythm. To travel there, one must ride on a moon beam of pure gold. To land upon it's shores there, is a joy now, I've been told. The homes are made of chocolate, with streets all paved in gold. All twisted just like toffee. It's something to behold. And the folks that do dwell there, are radiant with joy. That takes in all the people, even those who are but a boy. So come along with me. We'll fly on a fast moving train. We'll go to the land of make believe, and there we will remain.