Fleetwood Mac

Written by bob welch.
Its the same kind of story
That seems to come down from long ago
Two friends having coffee together
When something flies by their window
It might be out on that lawn
Which is wide, at least half of a playing field
Because theres no explaining what your imagination
Can make you see and feel
Seems like a dream
(they) got me hypnotized
Now its not a meaningless question
To ask if theyve been and gone
I remember a talk about north
Carolina and a strange, strange pond
You see the sides were like glass