(Intro) (Atmospheric pads, sound of distant waves and a faint lute melody getting overtaken by a synth pulse. Vocal chop echoes: "The dream... the dream...") (Verse 1) Left the Globe. Walked away from London's smoky light. Dropped the script. Fading into shadows of the night. No more players. Strutting on the stage of mortal men. It’s a tempest. Blowing me beyond the lion's den. (Pre-Chorus) (Beat starts to build with crisp snares) I hear the song of Ariel now. The sea is changing fast. Beyond the reach of any crown. The die is finally cast... (Chorus) Oh, we’re sailing to the Glass Isle. Past the boundaries of the map we know. Where the "stuff of dreams" begins to grow. Where the healing winds forever blow. Avalon, beyond the final scene. Avalon, the silver and the green. (Deep rhythmic bass drop into the hook) (Verse 2) No more poison. No more daggers hidden in the sleeve. Just the magic. Something that the spirit can believe. Oberon is waiting. On a bank where moonlight steeps the thyme. Nine fair sisters. Existing out of rhythm, out of rhyme. (Chorus) Oh, we’re sailing to the Glass Isle. Past the boundaries of the map we know. Where the "stuff of dreams" begins to grow. Where the healing winds forever blow. Avalon, beyond the final scene. Avalon, the silver and the green. (Bridge) (Beat drops to sub-bass pulse and swirling synths) Drown the book. Drown the book deep. Break the staff. Go to sleep. The golden age. Is coming back. Fade to white. Fade to black! (Beat builds tension rapidly) (Chorus) Oh, we’re sailing to the Glass Isle. Past the boundaries of the map we know. Where the "stuff of dreams" begins to grow. Where the healing winds forever blow. Avalon, beyond the final scene. Avalon, the silver and the green. (Outro) (Beat fades, leaving atmospheric textures) Such stuff as dreams are made on. Our little life is rounded. With a sleep. Avalon. (Vocal echo fades out: "The dream... the dream...")
