Wishing to be in that dream years ago, 

When it seemed as though her world was so vast, 

Time always slips through our fingers though.  

I looked at the vile clock I yearned to throw, 

Thinking of those questions I should have asked, 

Wishing to be in that dream years ago.  

Broken as the hours crept by so slow, 

Before they were so fast, came and then passed, 

Time always slips through our fingers though.    

Why this beautiful life did she outgrow? 

She married my soul, that ghost of the past,  

Wishing to be in that dream years ago.  

Upon her cold body I did bestow, 

One last warm embrace, I recall she asked, 

Time always slips through our fingers though.   

Too angry to see her lowered below, 

I could not see those sparkling eyes now glassed, 

Wishing to be in that dream years ago, 

Time always slips through our fingers though.