[Intro, soft, unsettling calm] They don’t call it a reward. They let it feel like rest. [Verse 1] Unicorns drift in with colors too clean, no sharp edges left where the pain had been. Pan steps forward playing pipes like a promise, one melody teaching the body to loosen. Little versions follow, laughing in time, dancing instructions disguised as design. Fantasy opens a brighter door, more color than life, less reason to question before. Pegasus rises, a mother with wings, protection framed gentle, a comforting thing. She circles the young ones, keeps danger away, a template for safety that answers obey. They tell the child fantasy is fun, a game you play when the hard parts are done. Mother teaches, mother knows, how to float above clouds where the pressure won’t go. [Hook, sung, restrained] Fly where the blue gets wide, leave the ground, leave the why. Over clouds, over doubt, this is where the hurt runs out. [Verse 2] Castles appear like memory scaffolds, stone made of light so the image stays soft. Water turns mirror, glass without frame, reflection becomes a doorway, not just a face. They teach mirrors can live in ponds or in roads, flat places hide what the surface won’t show. Swim through the image, do not look down, what waits underneath does not make a sound. Waterfalls rinse what you are not to keep, wash yourself clean, let the bad parts sleep. Remember the good, remember the game, fantasy wraps forgetting in something humane. Little girls split into horse and skin, identity stretched till it barely fits in. Hair braided tight so the memories stay, locked and layered, tucked safely away. [Bridge, breathy, intimate] Braid it. Hide it. Fold it till it feels polite. [Verse 3] Crowns and doves mark the chosen scene, ritual symbols taught without being seen. Male and female share the same frame, parts learn coexistence without knowing their names. Seduction rehearsed with flowers and pose, daisies bloom where danger grows. Marriage performed as arm and arm play, a ceremony learned before words can say. Cherubs hover, three flutes align, a tone drops a body straight into time. Eyes close, feet move, the trance walks alone, a heart hides in trees when no one is home. Curtains descend like branches in rain, everything veiled so the system stays sane. Feasts begin, banquets declared safe, blood-colored wine passed smilingly around the plate. [Hook, return, fuller] Fly where the blue gets wide, leave the ground, leave the why. Over clouds, over doubt, this is where the hurt runs out. [Outro, soft resolve] Fantasy never argues. It just asks you to stay.
