| On a bed of silken sheets he lay his head
|
| The pillow edged in gold and red
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| A palace in his prison walls
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| A feast for all, there’s really only bread
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| Those walls shut out the world
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| Leaving him to conjure up his own instead
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
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| A fantasy of sumptuous sensuality
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| His reality
|
| Where only straw the more his mind hallucinates
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| Creates desire and fire
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| His thoughts pour out upon the page
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| His thirst is never quenched, never tired
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| He builds himself a fortress
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| Fills it with the lusty, beautiful and wise
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| Fantasy to fantasy
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| His kingdom is a playground for desire
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| And he the king within his walls
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| Deliberately locks the world outside
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
|
| And dreams
|
| And dreams
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| All the mind divine
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| A cornucopia of pleasure in his mind
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| But just a little sad for all these things he had
|
| He waits and serves his time
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| With a wicked gleam he tastes his freedom
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| And sets out to realise
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| His dreams, his dreams, his dreams, his dreams
|
| His dreams
|
| (repeat to fade) |