Is that my voice I'm hearing?
Again I hear it clear.
A small boy sits and listens,
I look' but I'm not there.
...
Many were there, some jeep driving,
With the marching through.
Uninsured against the loss of sound mind,
Body or limb, the cacophony of unmitigated din.
...
I am also a member of writers network.com.)
Lost Within A Dream.
Is that my voice I'm hearing?
Again I hear it clear.
A small boy sits and listens,
I look' but I'm not there.
I'm in a dirty city,
Kicking a football about.
I take a pass from Beckham,
Then hear my mother shout.
She's sitting in my garden,
But the house is not my home.
I hear another calling voice,
But I don't know the tone.
I think they're trying to find me,
I've seen it on the news.
And then I find myself at school,
But I haven't any shoes.
I'm knocking on Bob Dylan's door,
But he won't let me in.
I ask him for an answer,
But it's blowing in the wind.
My heart starts beating faster,
As the darkness closes in.
I see a group of strangers,
Who, all look at me and grin.
I'm running for the subway,
But I'm not getting anywhere.
I start to feel I'm falling,
Then I'm sitting in a chair.
I don't know when I'll wake up,
I don't know where I've been,
I don't know if you'll find me,
Lost within a dream.