In my dream a wise man told me
It wasn't supposed to be this way.
Glass pterodactyls are falling
Like raindrops from the sky.
The answer is in a caravan,
Should judges ever lie.
Beware of turning into them,
Lest the angels realign,
Leave us fighting
A war  we don't understand.
Turn to wayward follies
Should specters cease to be.
Skeletons sleep in closets,
Dreaming to break free.