I am haunted by the dream;
The dream that dreams of me.
The dream where I saw all of me
And all I could ever be.
Although we went our separate ways
A nagging thought stays;
Could it be I have not seen the last of me?
What if one decides
He’d rather have my life?
What if my demise
Will make them feel more alive?
They want to take what I have earned.
Yes, that must be so.
But when they shall stake their claim?
That I do not know.
They’ll come with knives, they’ll come with fire.
They’ll come with guns and rope.
They’ll come with poison, they’ll come with bats.
They’ll come with prayers and hope.
I have become my worst enemy.
Me, me, me….
Which is the real me?
