You are you, and I am I,
So tell me then, my lullaby.
Where do you go when dreamers dream,
where do you rest, how does this seem?
Can you see, can you go,
for all it’s worth, then sell it so.
How can you dream a dreamers dream,
what do you see, why can’t you scream?
For what we know, and what we see,
am I you, or am I me?
Where do you go when gone is dead,
so the mother and father said.
If I am you, and you are me,
aren’t we just a Melody?
How can we see what we haven’t seen,
is this life an act, or just a scene?
By Nicholas Powell