| If these are the things that
|
| Dreams are made of Why don’t I dream
|
| Anymore
|
| I’ve tried to tell myself
|
| Nothing’s changed my dear
|
| But I look around me And think maybe that’s not so I only have nightmares
|
| And wake up with cold sweat
|
| Coming through my pores
|
| Why don’t I dream anymore
|
| I’m in the garden
|
| All the trees bear fruit
|
| I have to pick them before they fall
|
| I finally grab one
|
| I hold it in my hand
|
| I open it up It’s rotten to the core
|
| Why don’t I dream anymore
|
| If these are the things that
|
| Dreams are made of Why don’t I dream
|
| Anymore
|
| We lose our patience
|
| Lose our trust
|
| Yes we lose our innocence
|
| To forget our sorrow and hide our pain
|
| We lose old memories
|
| But dreams are what life’s worth living for
|
| I wish I could dream
|
| Once more
|
| I’m in the garden
|
| All the trees bear fruit
|
| I have to pick them before they fall
|
| I finally grab one
|
| I hold it in my hand
|
| I open it up It’s rotten to the core
|
| Why don’t I dream anymore
|
| If these are the things that
|
| Dreams are made of Why don’t I dream anymore
|
| I’ve tried to tell myself
|
| It’s all for the best my dear
|
| But I look around me and think
|
| Maybe that’s not so I only have nightmares
|
| Wake up in a cold sweat
|
| Have I become as corrupt
|
| As all I abhor
|
| I’m in the garden
|
| All the trees bear fruit
|
| I have to pick them before they fall
|
| I finally grab one
|
| I hold it in my hand
|
| I open it up It’s rotten to the core
|
| Why don’t I dream anymore
|
| If these are the things that
|
| Dreams are made of If these are the things that
|
| Dreams are made of If these are the things that
|
| Dreams are made of I don’t want anymore |