All children, except one, grow up.
Every time a child says, ‘I don’t believe in fairies,’ there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead.
All you need is trust and a little bit of pixie dust!
I’ll teach you to ride on the wind’s back, and away we go!
So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned.
I ran away the day I was born. It was because I heard father and mother talking about what I was to be when I became a man.
If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up! Not me!
All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.
Forget them. Forget them all. Come with me where you’ll never never have to worry about grown up things again.