Sometimes I wonder why my dreams are so cruel
To a fire it is the fuel
I always wished for the gift to dream
Now this gift makes me wanna scream.

Sometimes it makes no sense, makes me tense
Until the dream in real life will commence
The warnings I get for me and others
That is not really what bothers.

Sometimes my dreams break my heart
And I can’t tell reality apart
Like last night about my mom
Wherever did that one come from?

One minute she’s alive and well
With happiness I want to yell
Next minute she dies again
And the happiness all in vain.

Have I not grieved for her enough?
That I must still dream these stuff?
Has my heart not been through enough pain?
That even in my dreams I must lose her again?