Halfway between the gutter and the stars
Stands the air, thin and weak,
Around my dreams floating, half-asleep,
With the silent smoke of dead cars.
They fall to the trodden ground and writhe
As reality strides on with thorny feet,
But in the dark hours of night so sweet
They see the cold stars and rise.
A breath of life, a breath of hope,
A little cheer and a little blindness,
Some laughter and a lot of kindness...
That's all my dreams need to cope