Damp dark Monday. Lyrical mind still asleep. Time to compose a new arrangement for The Dream. Ian Anderson at my side ready to go. Pot of coffee poured. I'm thinkin' a smokey peyote washed intro then........

The Dream

Graeme Edge

When the white eagle of the North is flying overhead

 And the browns reds and golds of autumn lie in the gutter dead

 Remember then the summer birds with wings of fire flaying

 Come to witness spring's new hope, born of leaves decaying

 And as new life will come from death, love will come at leisure

 Love of love, love of life and giving without measure

 Gives in return a wondrous yearn for promise, almost seen

 Live hand in hand and together we'll stand on the threshold of a dream