Some reflections on dreams...
Free to Dream
He is gone
who held the contract to my fidelity
who froze my heart with his silence
year upon confounding year.
Alone,
I am free to dream
Yet where my dream would fly
the room is empty
the bed is cold,
cold as the sepulcher in which
my loved-one lies.
Come dream, breathe life into memory
Awaken desire with a kiss
Dimity
The Tuning Of Violins
~Darren Hayes~
Daylight breaks, and the black birds call-
And the market stalls are all filling up, spilling over the streets.
High above, over Notting Hill-
I am floating still, in a wooden chair, with our restless dog.
Been away so long, I almost forgot how time and space
Cannot replace this feeling of flying over things.
Now you're falling awake, your sleepy face begins to register
That I'm coming home- yeah, I'm coming home to you.
[Chorus:]
On a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.
Over bluebells, over Blackheath.
Calling your name, I will float through your window.
Major third, or a minor seventh-
I'm a violin tuned a little sharp, tuned a little below.
Coming around the bend, the hallway ends.
The chair it dips, and then it bends-
And it has wings for legs.
Now you're deep in a dream,
the sheets and pillowcases seem to overtake your head.
I'm at the foot of our bed.
[Chorus x2]
Break through the silence, the gulf that's between us.
Take all the heartache and bullshit that builds up.
And we will unravel, unravel the moments.
Yeah we will unravel, unravel the moments.
Oh...
On a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.
Over bluebells, over Blackheath.
Calling your name, I will come to your window.
On a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.
On a Sunday only we know,
I'll be calling your name as I float through your window.
Now, back to reality. Forms to fill in, clothes to wash, shopping to be done, meals to prepare...
