Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
I make the air fall apart
Around me
Now as the petals are no more
A corroding, shrinking stalk remains
Bereft of his blooms
And the ultimate cruelty of loves pinions
Beset his appearance, beset his appearance
No king could replenish his state
Now browning, sinking, dying
A thousand deaths
A thousand deaths
A thousand deaths
Terry sat up and hugged
The green army surplus bag
Around his skinny waist
It was cold and the person
Beside him had faded badly
Legs apart, his eyes lit up
The skys gone out, the sky, the sky
The skys gone out
The skys gone out, the skys gone out
The skys gone out, the skys gone out
The skys gone out, the skys gone out
The skys gone out, the skys gone out
The skys gone out, the skys gone out
The skys gone out, the skys gone out