Why is it when I take a short nap
In the middle of the day
I nightmare, Find a map
Tell me secrets, show me the way
And when I awoke
Stepped through another door
Let go of the rope
And all that was before
And why do I choke
Scared that air escapes sleep
In the deep, fear that I can’t breathe
Will you wake me if I gasp?
Or listen to the last?
Let me slip into the past?
And another dream will cast

Maybe we’re a speck in the palm of someone’s hand
A microcosmic diorama, fall to his demands
Why do we blow ourselves up?
Who holds the plan?
Is there an ending to this Age of Man?

Sometimes it feels as though we’re living in a dream
We glimpse the truth in sleep, remember if you can
Why do some think their mission is Gods’
To murder innocents over land
A prelude to the ending of this Age of Man?

Copyright 2002 Beau Phillips