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