| Inside a blue room
|
| You could tell the sun was coming up
|
| I watched you change the way you look
|
| Like a sweet chameleon
|
| You were becoming brighter
|
| What a wonderful way to like her
|
| I know that dreams don’t count, count
|
| I know that dreams don’t count
|
| But if it feels real
|
| What the hell’s the point of stealing
|
| That image I have of you from me
|
| This afternoon I thought about
|
| All the lives you’ve lived before
|
| And I just couldn’t block it out
|
| All the songs that you swore were written for you
|
| Well here’s another one for the pile
|
| Can you see my white flag across the avenue tonight?
|
| I know that dreams don’t count, count
|
| I know that dreams don’t count
|
| But if it feels real
|
| What the hell’s the point of stealing
|
| That image I have of you from me
|
| I know that dreams don’t count, count
|
| I know that dreams don’t count
|
| But if it feels real
|
| What the hell’s the point of stealing
|
| That image I have of you from me |