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lyrics: J. Morse © 1986 He collared me At a table in a darkened corner Wisps of smoke Separating he and I from the crowd He had a seat And asked about my sour expression And all I said to him Was, "I'm losing all my dreams." The old man cracked a smile Tipped his bottle to his lips Leaned forward on his elbows And began to tell his tale... "When I was a boy, I never thought About the times to come They seemed so distant, so far away I was young, and full of fantasy Dreams were all I had to myself And if you would have said to me 'Someday you'll grow up, son' I would have laughed at you and said 'You don't know how stupid that sounds You don't know how crazy that is to me But if you did, would you listen anyway?' The world is full of dreamers Cloaked in shrouds of imagery And even those who've seen it all are not immune The dreams can fade to real And our reality to dreams It can happen to anyone - even me." The old man rises Buttons his coat, and goes And the tale hangs In the air for all to hear I leaned back Took a drink and closed my eyes I never understood What he meant until today... The world is full of dreamers Cloaked in shrouds of imagery And even those who've seen it all are not immune The dreams can fade to real And our reality to dreams It can happen to anyone - even me. |