My head always produced the most brilliant of dreamworks when it's troubled. Or idle.
And my idea of a great dream is one that is dark, and one that I can wake and re-live over and over again .
And today, there is this one I'm still hung up on. It was a tune which started in my head, but when I woke, it was playing in my ears.
The lyrics was lost when the lids flew open. But I wrote a new one nonetheless.
Lone night, I'm coming out now,
Here lies, the memories ajar,
And here we're, dancing in the moon.
You take my hand in yours,
The words, they're slipping away,
And I have nothing else in my arms.
Why now? And what you've done?
For I can't wash, this stain away.
Glasses are strewn, and my box is torn.
But you, you are long gone.
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