I dream, I dream and morphine seems to take the pain away,
the poppy fields are my armour,
the shields against the clamours of
the day.
If I could,
I would and should awake but that takes moral fibre,
and I am just the turpitude, the crude and base, no shame,
and furthermore, I can't face the accusing looks, or
the debits in my credit books.

I dream, I dream and lean towards the light that
shines from the opthalmoscope,
there is no hope I hear them say,
more clamour in the clamour of my day,
more morphine takes the pain away.

I dream to dream and dreams dreams me,
dreams will be my
downfall.