The Dream

I dreamed I saw my baby and he stood as a man
He stood there, he was singing, in front of a long-haired band
A voice as shrill as birds in flight, as low as a croaking toad
He said, "please come here mother, and take this heavy load."

Many people were around
To hear the filling sound
As the music filled the air.
He was where he had to be
Smoke so thick I couldn't see.
The atmosphere of a fair.

I dreamed I saw my baby in the middle of the stage
He sat there all alone, the crowd left in a rage.
His sobs I heard as music now but the shouts would no longer grow.
He said, "Please come here mother, and take this heavy load."

No more people were around
To hear the filling sound;
No more music rocked the air.
He was where he was meant to be,
Tears ran down so he couldn't see,
Now singing should be rare.

Roger D. Linder: Only Golden Fingers Could Play So Heavy
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