Dreams, oh what wonderful things.
They make you feel joyful, they flutter and sing.
They sing songs of hope, of love, death and desire,
Of worlds that have long since been plunged into fire.
They shine like the sun, like the moon and the stars,
Each one is unique, like the craters of Mars,
They may be your future, your death and your fate,
Or just a light fantasy, nothing too great.

Not all dreams are good, some break that one rule.
Some make you sweat, some are just outright cruel.
They pray on your thoughts, on your hopes and desires,
Make your whole body feel like it’s plunged into fire.
They block out the sun, and the Moon and the stars,
And make you just want to retire on Mars.
So please, block out nightmares, they’ll alter your fate.
How? I don’t know! It’s me that they hate.