Through a window pane, from a hollow tree
I second guess myself again
It seems the sky has fallen in
[- -hundreds killed in Tokyo today in a senseless act of sky falling. Honestly, Tim, where do these people get off? And now on to the sports- -]
I dream I am a newspaper from 1939
And all the people stare at me; pretend the words are mine
I don't know shit, I'm telling you; Stop looking at me so
I'm just a piece of paper with a heavy-handed blow
I dream that four have ridden forth but one is left behind
Pandora's Box, on equinox, a shifting, broken mind;
I dream I kissed you in the rain, not knowing you had died,
My server's out, the surge went through, my systems are all fried-
[Private Thompson to Private Mays, Private Thompson to Private Mays – watch out for the undead, okay? Nasty buggers... -over]
I dreamed I met once again, on The Other Side,
I cried because I killed you in the Woods of Suicide
Apocalypse was not so sweet when dream and life combined-
I really miss you now, you know; Now I know you tried.