Why is it when I take a short nap    In the middle of the day   I nightmare, Find a map   Tell me secrets, show me the way   And when I awoke   Stepped through another door   Let go of the rope   And all that was before   And why do I choke   Scared that air escapes sleep   In the deep, fear that I can’t breathe   Will you wake me if I gasp?   Or listen to the last?   Let me slip into the past?   And another dream will cast      Maybe we’re a speck in the palm of someone’s hand   A microcosmic diorama, fall to his demands   Why do we blow ourselves up?   Who holds the plan?   Is there an ending to this Age of Man?      Sometimes it feels as though we’re living in a dream   We glimpse the truth in sleep, remember if you can   Why do some think their mission is Gods’   To murder innocents over land   A prelude to the ending of this Age of Man?      Copyright 2002 Beau Phillips