Fred Bandit is watching you.
Watching and waiting
Cold, Calculating.
His shadowy tentacles
Embracing all that you
Seem to be.
Sid Sinister is thinking
About you.
Woe to the individual
Involved in his thoughts!
The slightest perception
is all that
He needs to know
What and Who
You truly are.
Unnerving isn’t it?
To now know that together
They make up the
Dream.

I wanted so badly to touch you,
that night in my car,
I wanted so badly to touch you,
just my hand on your arm.

I wanted so badly to speak to you,
to say something cute,
I wanted so badly to speak to you,
but in awe of your beauty
my voice was stricken mute.
Dumbstruck-- I was struck dumb,
by the power of your presence,
my heart and lips grew numb.

I wanted so badly to hold you,
that night in my car,
to sing you a love song,
or hum a few bars.
But I didn't do that,
No, I must have been slacking
thats why I'm out here at midnight;
not begging, just asking:

If you're not busy tonight
with other boys,
If you will sit and listen;
I have retrained my voice.
It is not weak, no longer out of bounds,
and with it I wish to speak,
to make cohesive sounds.

I will be your caged bird.
I will sing to you in sunshine.
You can put me in my place,
I won't take up much space,
and I'll only say words
you teach me, that's fine

I will be your caged bird.
I will sing to you in rain.
You can try and cover up my squawk
but you must still hear me talk
and I only try to heal all of your pain.

I will be your caged bird.
I will sing to you in laughter.
You can lay down newspapers
and I'll be your soothsayer,
but tell me now, with a word,
should I whistle like this,
or faster?

I will be your caged bird.
I will sing to you in silence.
You can treat me like a pantomime,
pretend that I'm still here
and doing just fine,
and still I won't come to you with violence.

Box of Dreams

for one short moment, I could close my eyes,
pretend it was me up on that stage
for one short moment, I was the one they applauded,
the one causing all the rage

my music pure sweetness to the ears,
creating visions limited only by
the imagination of the roaring crowd,
wondrous moment, makes one want to cry

I have often dreamed how that would feel,
to do the thing I love so much
one of several things in this box
wishing that I could find that special touch

I think everyone at some time or other,
looking up to gold moon beams
wish that they could just this once,
release something from thier box of dreams