In the world in my mind,
It was a horse I would ride.
With a crown on my head,
And my sword drenched with red;
Galloping across thousand miles;
The preventing monsters will paint my blade.
High as where the bird flies,
To win you – which they say God made.
You women dream of a charming prince,
On a white horse, who’ll kiss your lips.
I dream of being that charm –
Playing my part won’t do any harm.