Once I had a dream that you
Were a bicycle and I was,
Was the dusty dirt road.
And you tore up my face for miles,
Tore up my face for miles.
Ferociously slicing the indifferent molecules
Between yourself and a stream you found
Much more pleasing.

It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s dreaming, dreaming of screaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.

If I shed off all of my skin
And let my muscles rot off in the sun
For all the bugs and the pointy teeth
Animals to eat,
Would you play the drums with my bones?
Play the drums with my bones?
Play the drums with my bones?
Play the drums with my bones?

It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s dreaming, dreaming of screaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.

If I cut off the top of my head
And some one removed my brain,
Would you dust off your pretty feet and toes?
And toes.
And toes.
Step inside my head
And beat my ear drums,
Like how you play the drums.
So your skills can forever be
Embedded in my head.

It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s dreaming, dreaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.
It’s dreaming of coming home to you.
It’s streaming, it’s dreaming, it’s screaming.
It’s streaming, streaming.