So it seems that if sleep makes dreams Then sleeplessness makes us that's fine melatonin and wine We got way to close way too quickly To hopefulness to which we are both hopelessly addicted I'd say the tree still needs another bell Judgement don't fail me now It's getting in my dreams It's gotten in my dreams It's getting in my dreams And everything is always worse babe at 4:30 in the morning Black bird has died, red bird is on the rise I guess that is why I've always both loved and hated the sick grey light of the dawn But your hand is your wand and your landscape is drawn and your chariot awaits Beyond despondency the wheels will cut the earth your chariot awaits It's getting in my dreams it's a bad shade of green But I don't care what they say my dreams might say about me I need, I need something beautiful to carry and you're all I care about babe You're all I care about babe Your hand is your wand and your landscape is drawn and your chariot awaits