I gave myself a dream last night
With melatonin and St. Ides
Where everything was exactly as it seemed
The witches in the woods were dead
The pastors came, the demons left
There were no ghosts in our house anymore
I've been waiting for a while
To see the drunk in the mirror smile
Today he's grinning like a lunatic
So I went down to my piano
And wrote a new national anthem,
And it sounded a little bit like this:
Wake wake wake me up
I wanna be scorched by the sun
I wasn't built for life outside the crypt
Shut shut shut me in
The pretty things must die and end
At least I got to see them for a bit
Does that worsen or detract from the sting?
In that dream I wrote a song
But when I woke up it was all gone
Because I had to work a shift at four
Came home but couldn't find the chords
I wish I'd just been late to work
Because for once I'd found the perfect words
Wake wake wake me up
I wanna be scorched by the sun
I wasn't built for life outside the crypt
Shut shut shut me in
I have fucked everything up again
At least I got to see them for a bit
Does that worsen or detract from the sting?
Soon enough every city skyline looks exactly the same
Soon enough every single thing outside turns gray
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