There’s an old treasure map in my head
with the ink smeared along the paper
the forest dark like the night
Talking hills whisper in the wind like little children
Don’t go into the Lost Desert,
you’ll never find your way out
There’s an old treasure map in my head
with the ink smeared along the paper
the meadow of willows look like an ocean
flowers and branches dance in the wind
You’ll never want to leave, but the treasure is close
push a little farther and you’ll find what you seek
There’s an old treasure map in my head
With the ink smeared along the paper
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