(Fabian Perez - artist)
The hour has come and passed, the one in which our good night is silent
it steals my breath and forces the dark around me to swallow
it strips the light from the room from the sky and sends me drifting
ever so slowly into my goose feathered pillow
Dreams grab hold of my thoughts and whip them round and round my head
searching for the one, the one that he wants, that he dreams
and then steals the thought before I can see it;
and yet, I know
what it is he is dreaming
The hour has come and passed, the one in which our good night is silent
it steals my breath and forces the dark around me to swallow
it strips the light from the room from the sky and sends me drifting
ever so slowly into my goose feathered pillow
Dreams grab hold of my thoughts and whip them round and round my head
searching for the one, the one that he wants, that he dreams
and then steals the thought before I can see it;
and yet, I know
what it is he is dreaming
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