When I was in the Boy Scouts in Kansas we often sang this song around the camp fire-

If there were witchcraft, I'd make two wishes,
A winding road that beckons me to roam
And then I'd wish for a blazing campfire
To welcome me when I'm returning home.

But in this real world, there is no witchcraft
And golden wishes do not grow on trees
Our fondest daydreams must be the magic
To bring us back those golden memories.