Children are people who live in a land Made of raindrops and puddles and pebbles and streams Silently watching a twig as it sails On a clear crystal pool to an island of dreams There go a pair who have just built a city of mud And it's real They know that mud doesn't look very pretty But ooh, how it feels This little boy greets the snow with a smile That little girl has discovered an isle made out of pillows One little fellow is friends with the wind in the willows All of them children and all are mysterious people I can remember when I was a boy That my bed was a ship that I sailed through the night And I remember the world as a place That was eager and loving and shiny and bright Where is the boy who was friends with the rainbow And once rode upon Where is that shy and mysterious person Oh where have I gone I can remember I once said my prayers But now I stand by while my children say theirs Watching them kneeling And I could cry that one day they'll forget All that they're feeling Oh, what a shame that our children should grow into peo... ple