I dream a dream of dreams,
Everynight I gain sight;
Images of imagination I see,
Some to terrible to fright;
Creatures move about,
Wit' colors so perverse;
Even tha darkest ones no doubt,
Look to grand to be obserd;
I wake as if I just was born,
A sweat so cold wit' a feelin' of scorn;
I fear my demise is comin',
By tha Grim Reapers sword;
And when asked how I'll defeat this opponent,
I can not come wit' an answer;
'Cuz tha next time I dream,
I'll be staring in tha eyes of my master.