I want to tell you about the day before tomorrow,how it all started forming itself from a single tear,
then grew as a giant looking around, punching in the air
like some crazy boxer fighting with his own solitude.
Oh, how tall can dreams be, so regally slow dancing
within dreams themselves.
We don’t see dreams, we feel them,
and in feeling them, we believe they are somehow real.
A tear can be deliverance,
it can be so strong that lifts all the weight inside.
That’s why heavy clouds mean trouble
for someone with no umbrella.
So, we see, we wait, we hold on for tomorrow,
for tomorrow is dream, but it is also real.
Like a tear is real for a lost memory.
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