I'm writing this in the middle of the night,
when there's nothing to do but sleep,
but I'm not ready to forget about the world,
wandering through dreams that aren't mine to keep

and now I lay here,
thinking about passion,
and how we sometimes put it in a droor,
to make way for practicality,
until one day, we think of it no more

dreams have a way of wilting,
when they are left to collect dust.
they slowly ferment in regret,
they suffer from distrust.

so take these words with you,
in those moments of doubt,
when you find yourself in need of a steady hand,
when people tell you to buy a suit,
when they tell you to quit the band

though a small victory it might have been,
you've tasted greatness so far,
even if it was in a dimly lit room,
in some crummy little bar

don't write off your dreams,
don't discount your success

because the magic was there,
even if the crowds were not



I've said it before,
and I'll say it again,
your music is making the world a better place:
  reminding me of the beauty,
  making me forgot about the haste



so do yourself a favor,
do a kindness to the world,

stick it out and see what happens,
when your waking dreams unfurl