Somewhere in my Kansas mind,
I treasure dreams I've left behind,
For city life and neon glare
Have made me mostly unaware
Of what was magic in my youth
Like fairy money for each tooth
Or river banks and camping sights
That teemed with fireflies many nights,
The flower beds my mother grew
With peonies and roses, too
And katydids that sang a song
On moonlit nights all summer long.
My childhood friends who knew me well
Would play till dusk, then mom would yell,
"Come on inside. It's time for bed."
And I'd lay down my sleepy head.
Beyond the prayer, the dreams would start
Of what I hoped for, in my heart.
My dreams today are still the kind
I treasure in my Kansas mind.
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