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The dead dream

The dead dream of us

Our fears, wet dreams

They build and build

The towers that surround

Repeating worlds of veils

Crypts of illusion filled

Of hanging, grinning fools

And the silence of the sun

Speak now the words

Call to the outer moons

Prepare my mind

Leave behind the tired fog

And join in absolute

Death, remove my barrier to dream

May I walk upon the wind

And hear echoes of the souls

May I wake to find the world has left

And hear the dead repeat