Children always seem to have
A sparkle in their eyes
That no grown-up ever has
Did you ever wonder why?
They can turn a backyard garden
Into twelfth-century England
You're Robin Hood, I'm Marion,
Let's fall in love!
And you'll save me with your arrow,
And I'll always be your maiden
We'll live happily forever after.
But no grown-up could ever see
How real it is to them,
And none would admit that he
Could remember when
He would turn an oak branch into
A rocket ship to Mars
That could sail to just about anyplace
We'd take off from a launching pad
Just you and I
And we'd sail off into outer space.
But when children grow up
They lose their fantasies
Grown-ups don't do things like that
They call it "make-believe."
Things like that just don't exist
A dream, a thought, a song,
But if they think it's make-believe,
That's where they are wrong!
They'll never understand just how the children feel
To a grown-up it is make-believe,
To the children it is real.
To turn a twentieth-century backyard
Into twelfth-century England
You're Robin Hood, I'm Marion,
Let's fall in love!
And you'll save me with your arrow,
And I'll always be your maiden
They'll never see how we feel
To the children it is real.