DREAMING
By Patrick Power
Rose to the alarm and a full blue moon
Childhood memory of a birthday balloon
Another morning come, come around too soon
But it’s ok, I was only dreaming
Looked at her face, so beautifully sleeping
To the door I went softly creeping
Crawling along, along the ceiling
But it’s ok, my baby lies there dreaming
Baby, baby, baby let me in your dreams
I dress in clothes of dust and dirt
Worn-out jeans and holey shirt
A working man, working through the hurt
I wander out among the rust and steam
The machines pouring poisons into the stream
The rich man smiling like the cat that got the cream
I watch that river flow to who knows where
With shovel in hand, I bend my back
Put my ear to the railroad track
My body stretched out upon the rack
But it’s ok, I still have my dreaming
But in my dream a wall that I can’t climb
She’s rising now as the day commands
A thousand red letters and final demands
Staring out a window head in her hands
But it’s ok, there’s still time for dreaming
Baby, baby, baby let me in your dreams
I dress in clothes of dust and dirt
Worn out jeans and holey shirt
A working man, working through the hurt
I sit and wonder just who we are
Wasted days reaching for that far off star
With no soft oils to ease this skin-deep scar
Baby, baby, baby what’s the point of dreaming
I stumble home feeling tired and beat
Avoid the cracks of this beat-up street
I’m walking home myself, myself to meet
But it’s ok, soon it’ll be time for dreaming
In the night I lay down to sleep
Pray to God our souls to keep
To heal the wounds and scars that we reap
Then it’s ok, this is our time for dreaming
Baby, baby, baby let me in your dreams
We swim in waters so fresh and pure
Soak up the sun on a distant shore
And sooth the scars that we both wore
And it’s ok, this poor man’s only dreaming
I rose to the alarm and a full blue moon
Tethered to the sky like a big balloon
Another morning come, come around too soon
But it’s ok, I was only dreaming
I dress in clothes of dust and dirt
Worn our jeans and holey shirt
A working man, working through the hurt
I work alone in the dark of day
Look to my dreams to light the way
Back to my baby’s arms to dance and sway
Then it’s ok, I know I’m only dreaming
I dress in clothes of dust and dirt
Worn out jeans and holey shirt
A working man, working through the hurt
But it’s ok, this poor man’s only bleeding
Baby, baby, baby I’m only bleeding.
