I saw it in my sleep
The way a dream
Fabricated from times
I wanted them most
Could disappear with just
A burst of colour
A shifting shadow
But I still saw it in my sleep
Or lack of, I guess
Never makes much difference
When I hoped to sleep
I could never dream
I always got lost in morning's early times
And what I needed the most
Wasn't there, but just
A faded colour
A crying shadow
So I don't get much sleep
Same as always, I guess
Shouldn't be much difference
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.