Ooh, the ideas at the end of my rope, at the end of my rope the ideas
That make perfect sense in their context but still perplex when the heart heals.
Sometimes I'm sorry that I've made friends with old lovers,
Sometimes I'm sorry that I've made love with old friends,
They're all dreams come true within dreams where you woke up and you knew
You couldn't fall asleep again.
Ooh when the night's coming up through the floor, when the night's coming up through the floor,
Everyone who'd tried to get inside-- they've returned and pried open the door.

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