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surrounded by clowns, it’s the middle of my life
dreams mold reality, it just takes time
gather round friends, remember to breathe
and if you get down
you can get down with me

we’re all crashing
something’s always going on
late night phone calls
help the morning come

this must be a dream,
it’s not how it feels and it’s not what I’ve seen, that makes something real.
maybe there are certain things
that only become real
to you, to your soul to your heart to your mind, to this space
by the act of never seeing them in the first place

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