The Thing About Dreams

The thing about dreams is that everything seems like you’re riding a wave that’s been forming all day in your mind.

The thing about time is all in your mind. Days turn to weeks turn to years turn to infinite signs: what you’re leaving behind.

And the hell with the rest. You gave them your best. You talked through your teeth and the black cigarettes in your hand.

I always believed you were more than impossible, more than you seem and partly responsible for my life, from my eyes. Let’s stay the night…we’ll leave with the sunrise.

The thing about me, is I wanted to be more than just friends and hardly acquaintances. I want to know why you turn in your sleep, the secrets you keep, the things that you’ve buried so deeply, discreetly inside. My oh my.

And the hell with the words. Or haven’t you heard? Nobody says what they mean ‘til the second or third whiskey rye.

I always believed you were more than impossible, more than you seem and partly responsible for my life, from my eyes. Let’s stay the night…we’ll leave with the sunrise.

The thing about love: it’s never enough. Circumstance changes and life’s always calling your bluff. Enough is enough.

And when you sleep you’re alone. When you dream you’re just one of a million small pieces. My darling, I see you. I’m one.

I always believed we were more than impossible. You’re more than you seem and partly responsible for my lies, from my eyes. And now I’ve said too much and I’m not giving up. I can’t carry the weight of this over-filled cup. I just close my eyes like you’re close to the touch and I dream: You’re not what you seem.

I have no idea what the deal is with this song. I wrote it a year ago and never planned to put it on a record. I liked the Wurlitzer and the beat and that moment when the beat stopped and the piano came in.

Dreams don’t follow any sort of logical pattern (it’s more of an attempt by your brain to create something logical out your spinning stream of unconscious emotions and images, short and long term memories — or so I’m told by the New York Times).

I had a recurring dream when I was kid about flying. I would be standing on the sidewalk with huge ears, like an elephant— and simply flap them and I’d be airborne. I remember thinking “Why do I keep forgetting that I can fly? This is so easy. I have to remember this when I wake up.” As if the only thing stopping me from flying in reality was a mental block I’d acquired from living too long on a planet that told me I couldn’t.

So many dreams are like that: memories of a time when you didn’t so thoroughly know the limitations that life imposes on you. That’s probably why they’re important. Because unlike flying, many of those limitations don’t actually exist.

This song was just a way to wave across the abyss to a memory of something that once made me feel limitless.

2 thoughts on “The Thing About Dreams

  1. This is my favorite so far on the album. It speaks to me of my life these last few months, hell…these last few years. It’s like you see inside my soul and wrote the words from my experiences. You have a gift, one that I am so glad you share with us.

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