Late last week after Dorothy fell asleep
A rain drop leaked from her ceiling onto her cheek.
And soon her mind was caught in a travelling thought,
One that she once knew well but then forgot:
     When was the last time I crossed the street?
     And what if on that day I was hit by a car,
     And knocked my head so hard i fell into a coma?
     And now I’m living in a dreamland conspiracy
     Where everything is the same as reality,
     But with one exception:
     No one in my dream can change,
     They are stuck the way I knew them,
     But I am changing so much, and so fast.
     And what if I were to **** myself in dreamland--
     Something I am always too shy to try--
     Would I wake up in a moon white gown
     With everyone I know around
     And say, "you've all changed so much,"?
     And would I get to know them all again?
     Would I remember dreamland?
     Would I tell anyone?
     Would a normal person think this up?
     Am I abnormal?
     I should get to sleep.
So Dorothy thought up some cotton candy sheep,
And counted herself into a deep and dreamless sleep.
But she will have this same thought again next week,
Just like the rain from her ceiling, it will leak.