Day after day, monotony;
identical events again and again,
and we sit through this tedium daily.
We’re born an empty vessel for ennui
and our lives fill us up, slowly;
drop by tiresome drop,
all waking hours,
a veritable Chinese water torture of life.
But in dreams we find release.
Remembering things long lost,
reliving the days of our youth now gone,
gone by so quickly, how we long for those days,
those halcyon days.
Tonight I dream of you,
of our time spent together,
of your heavenly beauty,
of words I left unsaid, through cowardly
presque vu, too weak to find the words to say.
Tonight I dream, that I can say now
what I’d longed to say before,
to tell you how good our time together would be,
to tell you I can’t do anything – except be in love with you.
And maybe, in these dreams, things are different
and I don’t wake to this monotony.
Isn’t it pretty to think so…