In my recurring dream,
We have a daughter
With a boyfriend with a mustache
With a taste for younger women
Like our daughter,
And he has this little habit
When he tries to make a point,
He points his finger,
Which if it had not been eaten by a tablesaw
When he was 23,
Would really help to emphasize his point,
Instead we are distracted by the sight
Of the missing joint,
And no one hears a word he says
In my recurring dream.
Oh, in my recurring dream,
I give a man a twenty dollar bill
'cause he likes Smokey Robinson
And lives on the street, but still
Will never confuse
The Temptations with the Miracles
When he walks in the grocery
And hears them on the radio,
And I'm sad he's on the street
But glad he can feel the thrill
When "Tracks of my Tears" comes on
And then "Blueberry Hill,"
So here's my twenty dollar bill
In my recurring dream.
Oh, in my recurring dream,
And this one comes too often
There's a plane filled with people
With carry-on coffins, and I
Don't know all the rules regarding karma,
But I suspect that when the good outweighs the bad,
Some automatic self-protect should kick in,
And here you got this plane
As it starts to rise,
I can see the panic in every pair of eyes
And the silent voices calling
In slow motion, trapped and
Falling and falling and
Wake up, you sleepyhead
Get up, get out of bed
Cheer up, the sun is overhead.
Oh, in my recurring dream,
I was eleven when it started
I am standing in my backyard
Shooting arrows at a target,
While inside the house my mother,
Now remarried since the last night's
Untimely death of my dad
And she leans over the couch,
Where he's still lying, to kiss him,
And it's not that we are ghoulish,
It's just that we would miss him,
So we leave him there a little while longer,
And a good thing too, I guess,
'cause dying's made him stronger,
And three days later he gets up to watch the news,
And the news is often bad,
And the news is often sad,
And I know a lot of us are happier when we're sad.
Wake up, you sleepyhead
Get up, get out of bed
Cheer up, the sun is straight overhead
In my recurring dream,
I am working with my brother
We are drawbridge operators
And cannot see each other
As we pull the ropes that raise the road,
This cloud above me suddenly explodes
Into a million little lullabies
That fall into my ears,
Steal my attention but they take away my fears
So when I slip off the road
And fall through the icy waves,
I realize it's not Jesus, it's music that saves
And the fish swim by me with faces like goats,
I sink into the darkness but I still hear all the notes.
In my recurring dream,
I am saying what I feel like
To anyone I feel like,
And I don't care what they think of me,
To any girl I feel like,
And I don't care if she'll sleep with me,
I like what I feel like,
And I like who I've come to be,
And I've locked into the moment,
And I've loved with all my might,
I have given all I have,
And I'm fearless of the night,
And I'm hopeful, yeah,
And I'm not holding on so tight,
I am giving up the fight,
I am giving up the fight
In my recurring dream.
No, I'm not holding on so tight anymore.
Yeah, I'm locked into the moment,
And I ain't holding on.
Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up,
Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up,
Get out of bed.