There behind me,

driving down elm street,

i swore a saw a

rat rod driving,

simply saying i must be dreaming,

or james, driped my

drink again.......

bastard.

good one for the dirty

drippins, he is.

that must be it Im driping of my head

Got home, the high

sunk in.

layed on the couch

my eyes closed in

heavy chest let out a sigh

music plays its lulaby

enraptured by its tale

i fall hoplesly beyond

the normal land

diving into

a self reality, light

color, sound. music

its all around me

eyes closed shut

i let my imagination

run.

run, with a swirling

purple mist,

twisting, turning,

into an abyss,

open my eyes,

home again.

wonder if i

really saw that

rat rod,

wonder if

it was real?

I'll never know,

waking up, i find

the wonder was

only a

dream