When Steven Foster died
In thought this on the bury
His wone and wallward hill
Just a corner in the den
But the crocodile’s back to eat
The crocodile’s back to eat
He smashed his head on the sink
In the bitter fever of gin
The wildebeest go crazy with thirst
Pull down as he try to drink
But deep down in the smallest street
Even crocodiles dream their dreams
And as the heard galloped off
He may all night fall past 4
Singing Beautiful Dreamer
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As the lions begin to roar
But we all have our beautiful dreams
Waiting for us like wildebeests
And when we wait at the river
To cross to that gleaming shore
The river show he’s next to feed
As the feed thunders across
But the river has oceans to feed
She has beautiful ocean to feed
And the oceans, they feed the sky
And the sky feeds the earth
And Steven Foster’s beautiful ghost
Laid down to feed us all
To feed took vows the songs
Echoing cross the wild plains