Woke up this morning, found my baby gone
She’s been gone for years, but my dreams don’t know
They’re still stuck in those days of long ago
And whatever happens they don’t move on.
Woke up tied to operating table
With white-robed angels tending to my needs
I thought ‘I must be drunk. Heaven indeed!’
They’d pumped my stomach. Drunk and unstable.
Woke up to find myself in dentist’s chair
Thinking I’d been to the moon by rocket
‘Where am I?’ were my words. What a shock it
Was, to be back on earth - how’d I get there?
And so dreams, tequila, anaesthetic
All mix the sublime with the pathetic.
All true, apart from the opening - I haven’t been on my own for years, but I used poetic licence there - or pathetic licence!
Fri 12 Jan 2007
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