Dreams

If dreams are part of who we are

Then a part of me you are

Where is the line?

The wall, the door?

And will one side enter the other?

I sleep with you inside of me

Though my bed of you is empty

You are a vision inside my head

You are a spool and I am the thread

I am a pencil, you are the lead

I am a coffin, you are the dead

I hold you while I am inanimate

And I mold you, though you are granite

Such is the power of seein’ blind

And such is the magic of the unconscious mind

If dreams are part of who we are

Then a part of me you are

I woke up from a nap one afternoon at Lippincott & wrote this song.