And I think to myself what a wonderful world I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky Are also

If these are the things that Dreams are made of Why don't I dream anymore I'm in the garden All the trees bear fruit I have to pick them before they fall I finally grab one I hold it in my hand I open it up

I never knew the charm of spring I never met it face to face I never knew my heart could sing I never missed a warm embrace Till April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom Holiday tables under the trees April in Paris, this is a feeling That no one can ever

And I think to myself what a wonderful world I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky Are also

Of the tragedies in man Lurking in the core of us all The last dying call for the everlost Brief encounters, bleeding pain Lepers coiled 'neath the trees Dying men in bewildered soliloquys Perversions bloom round the bend Seekers, lost in their quest

The bartender said ya'll keep it down The party was goin' strong By the palm trees down at the tiki bar Right there in the Holidome We'd been sittin' there since happy hour Had the day off in Omaha And all those girls came in and they wanted to swim And

The bartender said ya'll keep it down The party was goin' strong By the palm trees down at the tiki bar Right there in the Holidome We'd been sittin' there since happy hour Had the day off in Omaha And all those girls came in and they wanted to swim And

Please patience please patience please Im creating a dream Imagine every where was free to roam Imagine if the trees could tell us where to go Imagine that the sun could fill each lonely heart Imagine confrontation never got a start Imagine things will

No more walks in the wood The trees have all been cut down And where once they stood Not even a wagon rut appears along the path Low brush is taking over This is the aftermath Of afternoons in the clover fields Where we once made love Then wandered home

And our silhouette up we could no longer see Sayin' we couldn't make it to Mexico We had our heavy hearts I, I was ready for Cancun (Bad bi- the candy, palm trees and sandy) Bad bi-, bad bi-, bad bi-, bad bi-, bad bi- Some candy, palm trees and sandy We