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  • sunny sunday morning
    lights my crumple sheets,

    the ones that become waves,
    ready to swallow me,
    like a sailor, I make my way trough the night,
    from bad dreams to nice ones,
    from reality to fantasy,
    when the sun comes up,
    I'm happy to make my way to the lighthouse,
    after having sailed away.

    I hope that tonight the sandman will be awake,
    so that he can anchor me,
    and that I won't drift away.
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