What lies at the back o' the moon?
The Mill o' Dreams, the Mill o' Dreams.
Sleep will take you to it soon, 
the Mill o' Dreams, the Mill o' Dreams.
Lay your head on Night's soft breast, 
say the prayer you love the best,
Shut your eyes and be at rest, little dear,
Stars are but sprinklings of the moon.
The Mill o' Dreams, the Mill o' Dreams
Has many a tale to spin and croon, the Mill o' Dreams.
Sweet, then let me go with you.
I am old to journey through the night unless you take me, too.
Countless years ago it seems
Since I knew the Mill, the Mill o' Dreams back o' the moon.