|   somewhere where 
        the wild ones go 
        I will find my way 
        still a child at heart 
        with so many helter-skelter dreams 
        aspirations full of childish delight 
        running away to the mountains 
        to an island, to the sky 
      I know not what I 
        wish to be 
        that fateful day that I grow up 
        nor if I want that day to come 
        I wish to stay a child 
        until I have to look mortality in the face 
        that may be long enough for me 
        to play out each and every dream  |