"'When you visit the lake that is crimson and gold,
Bring poverty's tatters along.
Little care if your garments are ragged and old,
For your soul shall be clothed in a song.
Though a hovel alone, you may claim as a home,
Where the sunshine of life never gleams,
You may bask in its smile, as you journey awhile
In the beautiful Island of Dreams.
The Island of Dreams, the Island of Dreams,
As you stroll through the Island of Dreams.'