When I was young,
I had a dream,
Just a small house,
down by a stream,

Far away from all that mattered,
All the dreams that ended shattered,

Just a home where I could roam,
And be me....

Call it causality, maybe reality,
Call it a God, who looks
Tearfully, down at me,

Call it an arrogance,
call it ambition,
Never conformed, you can call it
Attrition,

Call it a fantasy, call it
My lunacy, call it
my dream...

But in my madness, and still,
In my sadness, There's something
I cling to with hope and a prayer

That one day I'll find it, or worse,
Leave behind it, but still it remains
Like the chains that bind it to me...

When I was young
I had a dream,
Just a small house,
down by a stream,

Call it a fantasy, call it
My lunacy, call it
my dream...

Can you feel
The way I feel
When I think of you?
Or is it a feeling
That leaves us both
Reeling
When I'm apart from
You?

This morning
Is cold.
Shades of
Grey.

It gets better
I've been told,
Sun will shine
Today.

You don't know me.
I don't know you.

You pass by me,
Every day,
On the crowded streets.
You say hello; I say goodbye.

You serve me food,
Ring up my beer,
Tax my cigarettes.

I give you money,
And your life goes on.

We see each other often.
But you don't know me...

I dream each night
Of  prophecy

Of things that might come true.

I dream each night
Of prophecy,

Of fate,
Or what have you;

I dream each night
Of things
That can't exist or
Can't be true,

But every time I
Dream of fate
And always dream
Of you.

And when I wake,
From the light
through my
Windowpane,

I know it's happening,
The dream repeats
Itself again.

I dream each night
Of prophecy,
And all my dreams
Come true.

I dream each night
Of prophecy
And wake and cry
For you...