Fall in,
You can see it through my eyes
And hear it when I’m wide awake.
My eyes mostly stay shut when I sing,
Just like when I’m asleep.
I have dreams about things I will make,
And plans I never do.
In sleep, I’ll record these songs in my head.
Drum-sets taller than a house,
Bass amps knocking over trees,
Lowbots with five or six tape decks in them,
For making tapes.
Things change when I wake up,
I see things how they are.
I don’t have a body made of tape,
Or headphones attached to my head.
These songs help me trick myself
And pretend I’m made of sound.