well the unconscious is cruel
I think it’s ruling you
you lie, nullified and fried, sky high,
but the mind needs exorcise, so open half an eye
to float up stream can be nice
but the alarm has rung twice
you’ve pulled the covers on your head, instead played dead
and in your drowsy glaze, you disappear for days
lost in a dream, riding cloud nine over the moon
hey sleepyhead,
the butterfly dies if he don’t break out of his cocoon
your dream will never come true,
if dreaming’s all that you do
you got to make it to the world on time this time
if only to arrive, not even to survive
far out of reach, riding cloud nine over the moon
hey sleepyhead,
the butterfly dies if he don’t break out of his cocoon
I said the butterfly dies if he don’t break out of his cocoon
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