Dreams I Had

The clock on the wall is no use at all; the cogs inside froze at long time ago
Magazines on the stand are all second hand and the tap out the back refuses to flow,
And the dreams I had are nothing but that as they circle like vultures above the snow.

The sun went down on this beat-up town and the can-kickers holler and shout.
A woman paints her face to hide her disgrace as her man drinks another blackout.
And the dreams that they had are nothing but that as they crumble in fear and through doubt.

I tried to escape one fine, clear day but my suitcase fell apart on the road.
And the engine sighed before it finally died, yeah I thought it might just explode.
And the dreams that I had are nothing but that as they tangle like wires and corrode.

Day after day my life bleeds away as it spirals like waste down the drain.
And I look outside for the storm to subside but the wind shakes the window pane.
And the dreams that I had are nothing but that and have all been washed away by the rain.

I met her in the spring, was real crazy thing; ran into her round a corner one day.
And we liked that same books and I admired her looks and we met the next week to play.
And the dreams that we had were nothing but that and sometimes that’s all it takes.

Maybe I could be your salvation baby and maybe you could set me free.
Maybe this sun that we both thought was done, will rise again from the sea.
And whilst dreams don’t go as planned, run through your fingers like sand, they can grow upwards again like a tree.