A little friend who loves me lives in the house next to me. Just four years old, eyes as blue as the sea. Every Sunday at ten he knocks on my door. You, today I have so many questions for you. Say, where do the dreams come from? How high is the tent in the sky? And how deep is the wide sea? How big is the world? Why don't the animals cry? Where does the salt come from in the sea? Is the wind the child of the storm? Where does it come from? We talk for hours, hours that fly by. And nobody has told me much yet. If I don't know any more, then I learn to understand that there are still wonders, even if we don't see them often. Say, where do the dreams come from? How high is the tent in the sky? And how deep is the wide sea? How big is the world? Why don't the animals cry? Where does the salt come from in the sea? Is the wind the child of the storm? Where does it come from? So much happens every day between heaven and earth. The answer to many questions only the wind knows. Why don't the animals cry? Where does the salt come from in the sea? Is the wind the child of the storm? Where does it come from? Say, where do the dreams come from? How high is the tent in the sky? And how deep is the wide sea? How big is the world? Why don't the animals cry? Where does the salt come from in the sea? Is the wind the child of the storm? Where does it come from?