The Land of Nod was written by Scottish novelist, poet Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894).
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountainsides of dreams.
The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad
Till morning in the land of Nod.
Try as I like to find the way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.
Nothin' yet.