• What I miss the most when I was young is lights of a carnival
    And when the greatest struggle was to stay up late enough
    To witness the grand burst of spark and flame over a crowd
    Marking the festival of giving wholeheartedly during free time
    Dream towards a steady rhythm to capture the warm night
    Feisty flying dragon kite staring down a parade of fuzzy colour
    Speaking becomes light as the worries lift off in wake of joy
    It steals my pleasure a guilt for how much air there is to have
    Allowing a simple breathing task as naive as it was to believe
    When am I ever going to come here again, if such a question
    Were ever to be asked implying it were possible to travel back
    In time... But ever did the emotions spring up during a moment
    Fire weren't dangerous and my shadows shrunk back in fear
    Select these to be ingrained forever and emit an unreal glow