There lives in each of us a golden dream,
Day in day out we carve it, weave it,
Nurture it; whilst it plots to get further
away.
It gets hazy, it gets dark, assuming that it’s
you,
I begin to draw us in the air, with my finger.
Dreams are designed that way, like a movie,
We know who is who, watching
From the city of angels, you’ll know.
You were no friend, you’d be no friend,
But you visit me when I’m deep asleep,
Whispering in my nightmare, the deadly secret-
‘Bold treason is greater than wavering loyalty’.
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