The girl downstairs has these really bad dreams   She was a drum majorette once, grew up in Queens   She's lost in catacombs and there's these Stormtrooper guys,   With strobe lights for eyes, fresh blood on their claws   It's the same every dream   It's 4 AM and I'm so glad I'm alone   The skylight rattles its bones at the storm and the radio murmurs some kind of techno stuff   The girl downstairs just screamed, must be having that dream again   Tonight I solved the riddle of her dream   But I'll never tell a soul   I'll write it down, wrap it up in a beanie hat and ram it down   Ram it deep in a hole or a crack in the cliffs   She's just got up, I hear her moving around   She's put a record on, sounds like the Rolling Stones   She's making coffee, but those Stormtrooper guys must be real close by   I smell their eau de cologne   Here it comes