I found a painting in a musty trunk
And as I blew the dust away
I remembered seeing it long ago
A view from my window in early May
I stared deep into it for sometime
Then it began to grow larger and larger
And as if the window had disappeared
I was pulled into it by an unknown caller
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
THERE I AM！！！
I can smell those fields
The wind like an old familiar friend
The path leading to that little river
I follow it down until the bend
I dip my fingers into the icy stream
Crystal clear and running fast
And further up see our hill
I stood still hoping it would last
I could have kept walking up to the hill
But it hurt too much to go so deep
I retraced my steps to the edge of the window
Tasting and drinking everything I could see
Then in an instant I returned to now
Holding the dusty painting again
But my cheeks were red, my hair wind-blown
The breath of freedown on my lips again
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
And as I blew the dust away
I remembered seeing it long ago
A view from my window in early May
I stared deep into it for sometime
Then it began to grow larger and larger
And as if the window had disappeared
I was pulled into it by an unknown caller
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
THERE I AM！！！
I can smell those fields
The wind like an old familiar friend
The path leading to that little river
I follow it down until the bend
I dip my fingers into the icy stream
Crystal clear and running fast
And further up see our hill
I stood still hoping it would last
I could have kept walking up to the hill
But it hurt too much to go so deep
I retraced my steps to the edge of the window
Tasting and drinking everything I could see
Then in an instant I returned to now
Holding the dusty painting again
But my cheeks were red, my hair wind-blown
The breath of freedown on my lips again
The magic painting, the magic painting
The magic painting, the magic painting
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