somewhere I can call my own
where waking is easy
where dreams never fade
and everybody is gone and rolling on
and everyday we can hit Esc
(I don’t want to want you to want to want me)
each time the blade cuts deeper
is it worth the breeze it brings?
(play slow how the voilin bows)
one day we’ll build an igloo from the brick roasted dreams
that we toasted by campfires when we were explorers
dreaming of finding gold down by old ben’s creek.
(islands dreaming of countries dreaming of continents)
