When I dream my soul's immersed in glitter,
But when I wake it just fades away.
I wonder where stuff so beautiful like that goes?
It can't just disappear. That would just be a waste.
I'd feel better if I knew.

Like if it went on loan to someone else across the world,
While I was awake on this side.
Or maybe it could lie torpid somewhere in a astral cubby,
Waiting for me to enter that R.E.M. land.
I'd feel better if I knew.
© 2006 DAM