I was thinking of a series of dreams
Where nothing comes up to the top.
Everything stays down where it´s wounded
And comes to a permanent stop.
Wasn´t thinking of anything specific,

Like in a dream, when someone wakes up and screams.
Nothing truly very scientific,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.

Thinking of a series of dreams
Where the time and the tempo drag,
And there´s no exit in any direction
´Cept the one that you can´t see with your eyes.
Wasn´t making any great connections,
Wasn´t falling for any intricate schemes.
Nothing that would pass inspection,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.

Dreams where the umbrella is folded,
And into the path you are hurled,
And the cards are no good that you´re holding
Unless they´re from another world.

In one, the surface was frozen.
In another, I witnessed a crime.
In one, I was running, and in another
All I seemed to be doing was crying.
Wasn´t looking for any special assistance,
Not going to any great extremes.
I´d already gone the distance,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.

Dreams where the umbrella is folded,
And into the path you are hurled,
And the cards are no good that you´re holding
Unless they´re from another world.

I´d already gone the distance,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.
Just thinking of a series of dreams.

Just thinking of a series of dreams.