Exquisite Corpse

Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream

Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream

I make the air fall apart
Around me
Now as the petals are no more
A corroding, shrinking stalk remains
Bereft of his blooms
And the ultimate cruelty of loves pinions

Beset his appearance, beset his appearance
No king could replenish his state
Now browning, sinking, dying
A thousand deaths
A thousand deaths
A thousand deaths

Terry sat up and hugged
The green army surplus bag
Around his skinny waist
It was cold and the person
Beside him had faded badly

Legs apart, his eyes lit up
The sky? s gone out, the sky, the sky
The sky? s gone out

The sky? s gone out, the sky? s gone out
The sky? s gone out, the sky? s gone out
The sky? s gone out, the sky? s gone out
The sky? s gone out, the sky? s gone out
The sky? s gone out, the sky? s gone out
The sky? s gone out, the sky? s gone out