I’d rather be the sugar that coats your lips until you can no longer speak my name
Than a fond memory of bygone times
To again take your hand and drag you through the fog to freedom
Stay close as the haze clears and the dreams begin
Leading us both into the land of make-believe
Where all things are possible
And non-achievable
Clinging to you as the mists start to clear
And reality is reluctantly reclaimed
Lingering deep within your subconscious
Until the time comes
And we meet again