The archipelag of Åland and the "FANCY FICTION"

Fancy fiction, its the who´s prediction, knocking at your door, fancy fiction its the global store.

Who was sitting under a tree with big leaves, that was my dream, a fragrant woman dressed in green.

The news it’s the transformation of going, plant a tree with colour of green, that’s the way of doing.

The coloured shade of artificial screams, a warlike production of weapon in my dreams.

The underground avenue of the dead, a picture production, of the who, who wants to buy things of destruction.

The army of things hug my mind, who´s thoughts going crazy, in the search of what I find.

Our joy in the garden of art and seeing with the natural senses, breaking through, the outside mirror speaking loudly buy and throw, it’s the fences.

The colour of green, the leaves, who was the woman in my dream.

Fancy fiction it’s the who´s prediction, knocking at your door, fancy fiction it’s the global store.