In dreams like these become the seeds with which we place the light beneath

The ground has not the breath to seek why now deep creek choose breeze horse fleas

Their arms are mean and jokes discrete could seem of mangos in the trees

High in the air, the blue turns green, season too late, tea and whiskey

Towards vans that were not ever seen and this I'd have nothing written

The dreams like these that once have been

They'll never cease to be again

When we're gone, will you remember me?

Will they want to know what we used to see?

Can these chains maintain the writing on the wall?

Or like me, will these too one day fall?

Or will they crumble to the sea

While creatures that I've never seen

Come to be how they will be

Exactly how they want to be

Up and then

Down down down

Up and then

Down down down

Up and then

Down down down