If These Are the Things - Tracy Chapman

If these are the things that

Dreams are made of Why don’t I dream

Anymore

I’ve tried to tell myself

Nothing’s changed my dear

But I look around me And think maybe that’s not so I only have nightmares

And wake up with cold sweat

Coming through my pores

Why don’t I dream anymore

I’m in the garden

All the trees bear fruit

I have to pick them before they fall

I finally grab one

I hold it in my hand

I open it up It’s rotten to the core

Why don’t I dream anymore

If these are the things that

Dreams are made of Why don’t I dream

Anymore

We lose our patience

Lose our trust

Yes we lose our innocence

To forget our sorrow and hide our pain

We lose old memories

But dreams are what life’s worth living for

I wish I could dream

Once more

I’m in the garden

All the trees bear fruit

I have to pick them before they fall

I finally grab one

I hold it in my hand

I open it up It’s rotten to the core

Why don’t I dream anymore

If these are the things that

Dreams are made of Why don’t I dream anymore

I’ve tried to tell myself

It’s all for the best my dear

But I look around me and think

Maybe that’s not so I only have nightmares

Wake up in a cold sweat

Have I become as corrupt

As all I abhor

I’m in the garden

All the trees bear fruit

I have to pick them before they fall

I finally grab one

I hold it in my hand

I open it up It’s rotten to the core

Why don’t I dream anymore

If these are the things that

Dreams are made of If these are the things that

Dreams are made of If these are the things that

Dreams are made of I don’t want anymore