the traveller in the mountains
the weaver makes her webs
weaves love into a fountain
from which flows her love
trust the magick
it's not dangerous, honey
like the chesire cat vanished
leaving only a smile behind
you linger on in my heart
gone but still leaving little signs
trust the magick
go ahead and let it rain
i think the more that you have
then the less that you know
i stand here with nothing and laugh
as people put on their show
trust tha magick
it's not dangerous, honey
(c)1997 The Traveller