From the recording Dia Luein
Tossing a dream from the edge of my bed.
Leftover whiskey is hurting my head.
Well, I mumbled out something
(not sure what I said).
Something about how the daylight’s a thief
taking the dreams that I wanted to keep
(well, at least let me decide
the time that they leave).
Then, in the morn’ over coffee and eggs,
I sat with my friend and prepared for the day
(I said none of the things
that I wanted to say
(and I will regret it