the dreams all Hollywood
where everything is boring everybody is fake
and with that goggles i look at you
like droplets of dew settling on a flower in the balcony
the dreams emerge and glow with the morning sun
and incessant traffic
the dreams they sway with disco lights
the words i speak now
are somebody else's lies
and the dreams sharpen with a beer or two
and i utter tomorrow's stupidity
like i love you
but its all fake and lies
the afternoon's horny boredom and midnight's goodbyes
but there is something more
in the boxed dreams we buy
like a pearl on my hands
a tear from your deep black eyes
or the radiant sun glowing in your smile
and all is once more true
all the cheap things they sell baby
are beautiful because of me and you.
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