everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds

deft left hand ~ babyshambles

"you seem the type to follow the line,

went from cheery vagabondage to cold blooded luxury in four years.

no lick spittle or pickthack from sycophant claw back flunky.

oh, i want to lay by your side,

oh, i will lay down and die if i can’t lay by your side.

weaker vessel or better half?

that woman’s tears could be the death of me...oh dear

you know when she’s had a few she’ll be onto you there’s no letting up.

but, i want to lay by your side,

oh, i will lay down and die if i can’t lay by your side.

it may hap that these these are they - the golden years,

so don’t despair don’t dismay dry your tears.

everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds.

i had a blast off with the cast of a play on the radio,

they were more liberal times;

destined to drone in monotone on your radio,

it’s a little dream of mine.

oh but comments were less than complimentary,

and the deft left hand it followed the right.

i think about my happiest times and one of them,

was sat in bed watching a documentary on murderers,

a bearcat, a memosa and a view of arcady.

oh, i want to lay by your side.

oh, i will lay down and die if I can’t lay by your side.

oh, i want to lay by your side.

oh, i’ll surely lay down and die,

if i can’t lay by your side.

oh, i want to lay by your side,

oh, i’ll surely lay down and die by your side,

oh, i want to lay by your side."

woke from dreams and a book leaned up against my pillow, again. dreams of parallel universes slipped and fallen into one, and a show playing on the telly, a little girl who talked to bears and meercats, with pony-tailed braids chasing after a long-legged boy. so, i wipe my eyes clear and i carry bits of it around with me, as we always do. dreams weaving tunes and declarations, we are changed souls from our subconscious reveries, and from the distorted reflections we see ourselves in.

one more day closer to more golden times.