Connjur

How does someone with nothing end up with so much to show for it

All kinds of people, places, and things, your cheap doormats and decorations

And to think it was all just a dream, one fantastic hallucination

Keep on polishing your golden wall of trophies and self portraits

We'll just smile and wait till he knocks off your designer rose colored glasses

And you'll see what we see nothing but old dust, peeled paint, and broken glasses

A simple imprint imagined

I was the hill we walked

I was the walk that swung from your legs

I was your words wet cast in my thoughts

Those who say dreams are just dreams say words end when you can't hear them

Listen closely as they fade