|
And so it seems |
|
That sleep makes dreams |
|
And sleeplessness makes us |
|
That's fine |
|
Melatonin and wine |
|
We got way too close |
|
Way too quickly |
|
To hopefulness to which we are both hopelessly addicted |
|
I'd say the tree still needs another bell (?) |
|
Judgment, don't fail me now |
|
It's getting in my dreams |
|
It's getting in my dreams |
|
It's getting in my dreams |
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And everything is always worse, babe |
|
At 4:30 in the morning |
|
Blackbird has died |
|
Red bird is on the rise (?) |
|
Guess this is why |
|
I've always both loved and hated |
|
The sick gray light of the dawn |
|
But your hand is your wand |
|
And your landscape is drawn |
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And your chariot awaits |
|
Beyond despondency |
|
The wheels will cut the earth |
|
Your chariot awaits |
|
It's getting in my dreams |
|
It's a bad shade of green |
|
But I don't care what they say, |
|
My dreams might say about me |
|
I need, I need something beautiful to carry |
|
And you're all I care about, babe |
|
You're all I care about, babe |
|
Your hand is your wand |
|
And your landscape is drawn |
|
And your chariot awaits |
