Dreams Always Fade, But You Seem To Stay

Like a fair little trade
On a bare summer's day.
Walk away, walk far away.
The full paper bag
That lays in your lap
It's contents, more of a dream
Then a trap.

Like your senseless blind faith,
The kind without any face.
Our work is becoming a waste.

Sketches of time,
They love to unwind.
Right there in... your hand.
Our memory fades,
We try to awake;
As we sink into the sand.

Let's pretend we amount to anything.
Let's pretend we amount to anything.

I can no longer sleep,
The wine's getting to me.
And thoughts of you take hold.
As I wrote on a napkin,
What I wanted to happen;
The black words written in bold.

Ten minutes later, on the side of the street.
Letters washed away, running under our feet.
Who knew that this was real?

But now I can't get out,
And I'm starting to drown.
Because dreams aren't meant
To be real.

So, won't you smash the child down?
Oh, won't you smash that child down?