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letra de come dream with me - nodes

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i speak with rhythm
so cats know i’m with ‘em
freestylin’?
no, but still swimming
charming woman, but not winning
with lips dry but hips swinging
hearts?
no… but minds i’m in ‘em
see i’m sly and grinning
and she’s into sinning
i hear her moan between linen
but then again, it’s a given
with her, thighs like vice, and eyes like “nice”
she smiles for miles, and goes blind like mice
and sighs like thrice, so, why think twice
is it modesty? possibly
maybe i stole affection, like robbery
she’s acting coy, not d-gg-ng me
so with swag like so… what stopping me?
i feel frustration dropping me
so no time for pop ‘n’ locking g
i search for answers properly
honestly, i’m onto thee
and then i saw her on a…
rainy corner, a black and gold street
homeward bound, feel that neon-light beat
heat, through the cold when she came in close
and like d.h. lawrence our confronted souls
had momentary relief from a daily pose
the path less travelled, is the path we chose

so… take notice, and see soft focus
and transition… seamlessly
with, mood no mar and film like noir
and ignition…. come dream with me

—-

a rainy corner, a cornerside apartment
a neverending story, can’t remember when he started
cold coffee chilled on an open window sill
hand on incessant quill, but yet to find his fill

thoughts by the mil, plans thwarted by the thrill
biological musts, l-sts, tortured by the real
mental distrusts, mind engaged in memories kiss
from a memory’s miss, or was it memories missed?

honestly, he feels, the reals just slipped
dreary, like dali, the time just drips
a glance shoots to his sheets; thinks ‘call it a night’
but feels dry eyes catch a glimmer of moonlight

feels like, healing lights, lit up, her essence
her presence, a present at least for the present
but fleeting, heart beating, her divine intervention
back to his pen, chained like, pen-like-detention

ethereal embodiment, seducer of sages
ill health, broken empires, a muse so dangrous
she ageless, as is the music that she came with
she’s played this, before, chronicle that spans ages
tries to get her of his mind and onto tan pages
pleads for relief but his need-to-know basis
has lines of rhymes, chain-links like slavery
senses scr-pe for imaginary imagery

before she departs her perch, seamlessly
the wind transmits her words, ‘come dream with me’

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