(In which the scrivener violates his rule never to write in the first-person)
My bed was a Sears & Roebuck sleeping bag And my world headquarters that old MG; An Olivetti portable processed My words, my fresh young words, that no one read
I owned more books than clothes, and only those few That could be stowed in the passenger seat; I fancied myself the new Rod McKuen And I wasn’t - but I remember the road
When the world was new, adventures every day And I miss that - but mattresses are nice
I see you in my dreams You're magnetic I'm drawn to you and we fit like a puzzle But only in my dreams In reality, I'm not sure you know my name I see stars when we kiss And can't control my hands But only in my dreams In reality, we've hardly spoken I could hold you forever I could watch the moon in your eyes until God calls us to him But only in my dreams In reality, you don't think of me at all I'm in love with you But only in my dreams
