That time, that was real magic,

His hands in mine, mine in his,

Dancing round the ballroom quick,

So fast we should slip and fall,

But despite that, we can’t slip,

We are too wrapped up in dreams,

That we couldn’t ever trip,

Dreams of love and betrothal

That we knew could not be,

The chances way too small,

Our love would never live free,

But those dreams, our shared dreams,

Were magic, made us whole

When we were divided.

That, that was real magic,

The stuff that bears all dreams

And brings them to this world,

Just for a minute, hour,

Day, week, month, year, decade,

That’s the stuff that makes dreams,

And sometimes makes them real,

the true magic of us all.