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You are there, the center of
the dreams that I must not discuss,
the vivid ones I just can't talk about.
You are there, and I can do naught
but watch you, never speak to you;
Afraid to; afraid that I might interfere.
But damn, you walk so sad and near,
at the sight of you, my eyes ache.
Damn, you walk so sad and scared,
at the sight of you, my heart breaks.
If I were your life, I would be haunting people, too.
Spectre of a spectre, dead man's dead son,
I dreamt of you.
I still can't see how sad you looked
without the catch in my chest"
skulking down the sidewalk,
soggy in your daddy's peacoat.
Just a dream it was; all inside my head it was;
still, thanks to your suffering, shattering gaze,
I had a night without rest.
So sad you were that I feared to follow,
wouldn't dare to, no clue that you
might have been there to meet me,
might have come with something for me,
I was far too fearful to believe.
Thanks to the pain in your sweet face,
I had a night without rest.
The next morning, there it is: the catch in my chest.
Crystal-singer, fingerdancer, your sort of damage I cannot undo.
I lie shaken in the morning light after the dream of you.
I dreamt of you.
We won't talk about the river while we're walking in the rain.
I would hold your hand, entreat your naked smile.
I'd like another chance to talk; my shyness gone, I'd try again.
I would brave your eyes, brave your advice, if given at all.
At the table at the bar, it is Midnight,
Other strong young women freely trading stories of their dreams.
You rule the dream I'm holding back, the jewelbox I've shut up tight.
Boy, did I miss my chance? Should I give it up and scream?
Crystal-singer, fingerdancer, nothing here for me to do
but live with it; try again; I dreamt of you.