Nice girls are writing in journals
|
Things they wish they'd done
|
And all their bad sisters are walking high wires
|
Counting the days in a month
|
The awful truth doesn't bear thinking
|
Nor does the half-baked lie
|
They get their hopes dirty once in a while
|
Wash them and hang them to dry
|
Everyone's down except for the clowns
|
And Noah don't know where to go
|
It's hell up in heaven, there's nothing much here
|
And all the real men are below
|
|
What happens when dreams come true?
|
Will we know what to do
|
When our dreams come true?
|
|
So a saviour rolls in past the big sign
|
That says "Strangers - Please Turn Round"
|
The men tie him up to a feeding post
|
And take his credentials down
|
The sun beats rays on our salad days
|
His lips get parched and dry
|
The girls bring him drink with a giggle and a wink
|
And his moment of glory expires
|
|
What happens when dreams come true?
|
Will we know what to do
|
When our dreams come true?
|
|
Mr.Sandman can't believe it
|
He thought he gave them what they needed
|
You couldn't get no higher
|
Than a handsome dark Messiah
|
But he's got one more trick up his sleeve,
|
Before he gives up once again
|
|
A Siren goes off as she walks in
|
As the cowboy lies dying in the dust
|
She walks through the room where the gentlemen gather
|
Surrounded by debris and rust
|
She smoulders and steams, straight out of their dreams
|
But no-one will talk to her first
|
Big words are just words
|
They're small and absurd
|
She leaves and we all die of thirst
|
|
What happens when dreams come true?
|
Will we know what to do
|
When our dreams come true?
|
|
-----------------
|
When Dreams Come True
|
John Wesley Harding |