I’m going on a long journey. I hope I get home.

Can take you to another time Can bring back the dead Can do that, yes, it's not a crime Can do that all, right in your head

I sit on one eye, a lonely glass lens, A fancy old piece from your grandmother's trends. I don't help you read in the dark of the night, Unless you pop me in and adjust your sight.

Born in fire, shaped by hand, I sit upon a slender stand. I have a lip but cannot speak, A shallow pool is what I keep. Raised in cheers, filled with wine, At royal feasts, I brightly shine.

I stand on the podium, but never the peak, And a mantle of green is the fashion I seek. An era was named for my history and might, Though copper and tin had to fuse for my light.