I've been playing a tune on my harmonica that I couldn't quite place. Then it hit me. I sang it in a third or fourth grade production (Mom?). It's a tune put to this poem by Shel Silverstein...
If you are a dreamer,come in.
If you are a dreamer,
a wisher, a liar,
a hoper, a prayer,
a magic-bean-buyer.
If you're a pretender,
come sit by my fire,
for we have some
flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!
