Dream

Blew the dust off a wooden box
 And set it on the piano
 Nasty words came from its mouth
 The bite marks were to follow
 I should have given it away
 Now I never dream
 Wide awake for much too long
 My eyes glued to the table
 Tried to feign authority
 But sadly wasn't able
 And then it threw me to the floor
 I never dream
 They say I'm late by half a century
 He died in 1943
 I can't just leave
 (He smells it when I'm gone)
 So I just take it in my sleep
 The road is going...
 Me: "Ask for her another day"
 The spade's up your sleeve
 There's sweat on your brow
 And I will be damned
 If I let you back into this town
 December 17th, 1955 - Broken
 Seven hours passed on your floor
 Seven hours isn't that long
 Seven hours isn't