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I was thinking of a series of dreams |
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Where nothing comes up to the top |
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Everything stays down where it's wounded |
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And comes to a permanent stop |
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Wasn't thinking of anything specific |
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Like in a dream when someone wakes up and screams |
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Nothing truly very scientific |
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Just thinking of a series of dreams |
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Thinking of a series of dreams |
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Where the time and the tempo drag |
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And there's no exit in any direction |
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'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes |
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Wasn't making any great connections |
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Wasn't falling for any intricate schemes |
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Nothing that would pass inspection |
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I was just thinking of a series of dreams |
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Dreams where the umbrella is folded |
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And into the path you are hurled |
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And the cards are no good that you're holding |
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Unless they are from another world |
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In one, the surface was frozen |
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In another, I witnessed a crime |
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In one, I was running, and in another |
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All I seemed to be doing was climb |
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Wasn't looking for any special assistance |
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And not going to any great extremes |
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I'd already gone the distance |
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Was just thinking of a series of dreams |
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Dreams where the umbrella is folded |
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And into the path you are hurled |
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And the cards are no good that you're holding |
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Unless they are from another world |
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I'd already gone the distance |
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Just thinking of a series of dreams |
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Just thinking of a series of dreams |
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Just thinking of a series of dreams |
