| If it was only in our heads, only in our dreams
|
| Nothing we ever spoke of nothing evergreen
|
| You know I dreamed we were hunted by lions thirsting for red
|
| So we hid out in the brambles played like we were dead
|
| Never terrified of what that might mean
|
| Why is it clinging to life this longing that should now be dead?
|
| Why do I need you feelin' your claws in my back?
|
| I got a few ideas and an image of you in my bed
|
| If it was only a mirage, a hopeless scene
|
| Nothing close to water, nothing so serene
|
| You know I dreamed we were walking a wire across a ravine
|
| Locked in on each other then I hear you scream
|
| But I never saw you open your mouth
|
| Why is it clinging to life this longing that should now be dead?
|
| Why do I need you feelin' your claws in my back?
|
| I got a few ideas and an image of you in my bed
|
| If it was only for the foolish decision to careen
|
| Nothing that you walk from nothing so clean
|
| You know I dreamed of the end of the world
|
| That old nightmare routine
|
| I found you in a closet with your mother’s old tureen
|
| You said here’s one fear I had not confirmed
|
| Why is it clinging to life this longing that should now be dead?
|
| Why do I need you feelin' your claws in my back?
|
| I got a few ideas and an image of you in my bed
|
| I got two ideas and an image of your claws in my back |