I dream a thousand dreams for every memory I make,
and with each move there are another ten I'd rather take.
Won't you find your way here, take my hand, we'll dance
to these old hit songs. All for a lunatic's love
until we fall asleep in familiar arms.
Then, maybe today will be the day that I sprout wings
to become something that could impress and make you proud.
So, could you drive up here, take this ring and sing
these old hit songs, like some impassioned prayer
before we sink it to the bottom of the river?
We want to be better.
We want not to worry,
to not have to pay out life in bills,
or trade ounces of life for pills.
Our once a week plans to build,
before we burn it all down.
One day, someday we will.
We will, someday we will
escape the old house fires,
the cold bed of the river.
We’ll get our shit together
as we clean out our heads
and scrape out a living,
maybe make it halfway around the world.
Then, maybe someday will be the day I sprout wings
to become something that could impress and make you proud.
That could make me decent, worthy of consideration.
