Phoebe

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Just before I wake up, dream mother finds me in shreds
She patches me up and I wake up, look into the morning mirror
My reflection disappears down the Yellow Brick Road.

Dream mother opens her trumpet mouth
She blasts all the Blue Meanies with her ships horn
A flag stick out of her mouth and undulates in a dream wind.

Dream mother is a life-size cutout in a travelling circus
She stands in the Technicolour dream with a faded identity.
Let us walk down the yellow brick road into reality
Where you leave me standing at your headstone.

It was everything you ever wanted
All the woodland animals were in your hair.
You came to life in a television comedy;
Your dream mother made it all come true.

But after thanksgiving she was lost
Somewhere in the back streets of Bombay.

Published by blackbird212012

I wish to develop as an artist songwriter.

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