In my dreams I wander round and round
Searching for that car park by the lake
Wondering if the lost are ever found
There is often silence or birdsong
I wonder which new footpath I shall take
In my dreams I wander round and round
Haphazard as the footsteps of a clown
Looking for the works of William Blake
Wondering if the past will ever hound
I see you struggle ,walking on wet ground
You’d like some coffee and a piece of cake
In my dreams we wander round and round
Darling, shall I never hold your hand?
We got into rhythms pure and strange
Wandering through the past we never found
What was the space of love that made us ache
Fragile like the crystalline snowflakes
In my dreams I wander round and round
Can I change my ways, can I be found?
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To fulminate against the hands of fate
To vent our anger on beloved friends
Will not repair our ills and our mistakes
But may bring friendships to a bitter end.
For who are we to know what is the best?
Who are we to choose when loved ones die?
And do not think this is a needed test.
As if on us God wastes his time to spy.
Once we were a joining of two cells
The lively sperm, a salmon riding high.
The egg awaiting without need for bells
Is fertilised and grows that which shall die.
Astonishing that we should live at all.
Unsurprising, that a loved one falls.
