There's a dream peeping out of those venetian blinds.
Where, you ask?
Over there. See it? I think it's shy.
I keep smiling at it. I want it to know I'm friendly.
I want it to be my buddy.
Why, you ask?
I need it, that's why.
Dreams are good friends to have.
They make great company on dreary, cold nights
And they're such a welcome pick‑up when doldrums set in.
They push to make the impossible not only possible
But an honest‑to‑gosh everyday occurence.
You think I'm silly? Am I crazy, you want to know?
Not at all, I'm only dreaming.
Which is something you should do more of. Really.
You ask too many questions.