By Rich Collins
Could they be the things we see imagination or reality
The endless sky the deep blue sea
The garden flower the bumble bee
It is our dreams that set us free
Creepy crawlies things that fly
Dreams we awake and wonder why.
A black and white film
A coloured tv set
Enter the dream and place your bet
The moon i look at
The sun i dare not
Now i suppose you want the lot
I love the smell of boiling tar
But not last orders at the bar
Big Ben ticks and the MP lies
And the world is seen through our childrens eyes.
I hope i duck and stay out of sight
For if the eye that burns the lace
Should catch a glimpse of my sacred face
Then i know that dreams of places
Shall be lost with stolen faces
Sometimes you drift, tell me where do you go
When reality is gone tell me all that you know
Voices and figures that call from the shadows
I want to share all that you keep inside
Let me taste your tears
Let me share in your pain
As we both surface
Take me down again.
Comments