the clock is set for never 'til twelve

I close my eyes and see myself

passing countless vacant frames

as all the beauty slowly drains

to an empty theater a blackened screen

where the silence lasts till the day begins



there're few things that I wouldn't give

to dream a young man's dream again

the confidence to set aside the things that I have settled for



I cried a tear of grief in joy

for visions of a little boy

whose arrogance made him believe

he could be anything he wanted to be



dream again