Venturing, through the corridors 
of thrill and bliss; in this:
a joy to light my face, and yours, 
for tomorrow, we dismiss.
Too far to go through the village;
but close; to the swan on lane.
Past flashing dreams across the stage, 
and hope to the last of pain.
Indeed, those days were true,
a joy to light my face, and yours,
I still, think about you;
venturing, through the corridors.