WHERE do we go in those fanciful
hours between dusk and dawn. Slipping
into sleep it seems as if we escape.
Eight hours of freedom, dreaming, dreams.
Everything, no matter how crazy is possible
lost and found as we can be in our dreams
In the silent hours between sleep and awake.
lets go and talk to a friend, in heaven, it’s possible
between the hours of dusk to dawn.
No matter how much we think we don’t dream
when we awake there is always an elusive thought
of being where we wanted all of yesterday to be
We got there between the lost hours between
dusk to dawn. We know when we awake its all
over, but still we linger in our slumber not wishing
to relinquish those moments that are ours alone.
No one can invade us between the hours of dusk to dawn.