Dreaming
The glass slips slow,
Dropping from my grasp,
Crashing against the floor,
Not enough to pull me back,
Back from my drunken sleep.Dreaming of you,
Dreaming of me,
Dreaming of how we used to be.Why do I do this?
Constantly to myself,
Every night the same,
Drink to mask the pain,
Sleep to escape.Dreaming of you,
Dreaming of me,
Dreaming of how we used to be.But it won’t be the same,
it never can be,
it won’t be the same,
its down to me?
its down to you?
Does it matter now?
Now we are through?A slowly wake,
Another day,
I drag myself thought it,
My goal in sight,
Another night drinking myself to sleep.Dreaming of you,
Dreaming of me,
Do you dream of you?
Do you dream of me?
Dreaming of how we used to be.
Dreaming of how we can never be.
© 2006 Rob Jones