Atkin-James
I've come to think
Of what you are and everything you seem
As mine to keep
I am the sleep of which you are the dream
A state of mind
Where seeing you and thinking are the same
But there's a catch
I strike a match to set the gla** aflame
And pale purple on a clear liqueur
That ring of light is all we ever were
So slight a thing
In no one's mind should ever reign supreme
I'm in deep
I am the sleep of which you are the dream