You know of me, I am a myth.Yet I am reality. The elusive dream.
You get up in the morning with a vaguely satisfied feeling and a feeling of content. You can barely remember the complete details. There are a few ideas though. You first think that your best friend was in it, then you think it was maybe your bitchy colleague. Or was it the next door neighbor? Maybe they were all in it, or maybe no one was in it.
You wake up fresh from your sleep. You know there were a few incidents that happened. However as time passes you forget them and are confused. Did they really happen? How was it that you were one minute talking to a dog and the next minute you are floating in the sea. Maybe you have the sequence wrong. Or maybe your brain does not quite know what to make of illogical things connected by barely sane consciousness.
I am the elusive dream. You know of me, you have dreamt of me many many times. Yet when they question you about me you are left stuttering. A few have a grip on me, lingering and slippery it becomes.
You have a deja-vu when your girlfriend is wearing a dress that you have seen somewhere. You feel it when you utter words that you already have spoken. You know you have done it all somewhere and you think of me.
I am the elusive dream. I come once, I come at all times. You know me, sometimes you choose to ignore me. I exist and that is the joke.
I am the elusive dream...
You get up in the morning with a vaguely satisfied feeling and a feeling of content. You can barely remember the complete details. There are a few ideas though. You first think that your best friend was in it, then you think it was maybe your bitchy colleague. Or was it the next door neighbor? Maybe they were all in it, or maybe no one was in it.
You wake up fresh from your sleep. You know there were a few incidents that happened. However as time passes you forget them and are confused. Did they really happen? How was it that you were one minute talking to a dog and the next minute you are floating in the sea. Maybe you have the sequence wrong. Or maybe your brain does not quite know what to make of illogical things connected by barely sane consciousness.
I am the elusive dream. You know of me, you have dreamt of me many many times. Yet when they question you about me you are left stuttering. A few have a grip on me, lingering and slippery it becomes.
You have a deja-vu when your girlfriend is wearing a dress that you have seen somewhere. You feel it when you utter words that you already have spoken. You know you have done it all somewhere and you think of me.
I am the elusive dream. I come once, I come at all times. You know me, sometimes you choose to ignore me. I exist and that is the joke.
I am the elusive dream...
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