Singing Pixie

Flying into the empty room
she opens her eyes
she feels the air suddenly stop rushing
she saw pictures in her head.
...Mmmm...

Of the beam seeping politely through the four windows
to a place where the laughter are as sweet as cherries
and of the singing drizzle
that turns into a shower outside.
...Mmmm...

The little pixie flutters around as she pours her sugary dust
that reflects the moonlight on the faded crimson bed.
She hums the song of peace, a song only siren could sing.
Her silver wings are made to fly. Just like yours.
Opening a jar, she frees the sparkly fireflies inside
painting the room with butterflies.
She brought back the beauty of being happy
touch your art of life. Like a singing pixie.

She flies away through the four window
And left the empty jar
on the crimson bed.
A reminder of her serene song.
...Mmmm...

The empty room
went to Neverland
leaving behind the singing pixie.
She sang that peace is in your wings.
...Mmmm...

The little pixie flutters around as she pours her sugary dust
that reflects the moonlight on the faded crimson bed.
She hums the song of peace, a song only siren could sing.
Her silver wings are made to fly. Just like yours.
Opening a jar, she frees the sparkly fireflies inside
painting the room with butterflies.
She brought back the beauty of being happy
touch your art of life. Like a singing pixie.

Her silver wings are made to fly. Just like yours.
Touch your art of life. Like a singing pixie.
Her silver wings are made to fly. Just like yours.
Touch your art of life. Like a singing pixie.

The little pixie flutters around as she pours her sugary dust
that reflects the moonlight on the faded crimson bed.
She hums the song of peace, a song only siren could sing.
Her silver wings are made to fly. Just like yours.
Opening a jar, she frees the sparkly fireflies inside
painting the room with butterflies.
She brought back the beauty of being happy
touch your art of life. Like a singing pixie.