Your Chariot Awaits

So it seems that if sleep makes dreams
Then sleeplessness makes us that’s fine melatonin and wine
We got way to close way too quickly
To hopefulness to which we are both hopelessly addicted
I’d say the tree still needs another bell
Judgement don’t fail me now
It’s getting in my dreams
It’s gotten in my dreams
It’s getting in my dreams
And everything is always worse babe at 4:30 in the morning
Black bird has died, red bird is on the rise
I guess that is why I’ve always both loved and hated the sick grey light of the
dawn
But your hand is your wand and your landscape is drawn and your chariot awaits
Beyond despondency the wheels will cut the earth your chariot awaits
It’s getting in my dreams it’s a bad shade of green
But I don’t care what they say my dreams might say about me
I need, I need something beautiful to carry and you’re all I care about babe
You’re all I care about babe
Your hand is your wand and your landscape is drawn and your chariot awaits