
In my head there’s a station where my thoughts depart to far-away places; and they go find a sun that shines fair and bright and a light breeze, and the clearest water, and if your dusty hands washed one another you would know what it feels like to be new; and I don’t know if it’s a quiet port town, or a land of pine forests and deserts, or a thousand mountains, or familiar foothills, or yet another Hawaiian dream with eyes open wide; but they may discover a place where they belong more than here; and if it’s a sweet fruity cake that takes them there then I hope it takes me too.
