sometimes when sun rips across
rainbow fields and technicolor highways
i'm left to play
in the remains of the day,
the place before dusk,
where all good things are a must
and somewhere through a hole
i can hear the bell's toll
and all of this is drowned away

sometimes when the moon splits the branches
and clouds float through children's rooms
only the loneliness of one looms,
trapped where all the angel hair falls
and the shattered dream howls and calls
to pull me down between the sheets
and think of all that stains my mind
and the reality of others
like a drip from blood brothers,
some i may never know

and when the sun breaks the window pane
in a mad dash to pull me from my slumber,
i dream a little dream
and pray this day to be better
than the last-

Amen.