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MARC ALMOND

The Libertine's Dream

On a bed of silken sheets he lay his head
The pillow edged in gold and red

A palace in his prison walls
A feast for all, there's really only bread

Those walls shut out the world
Leaving him to conjure up his own instead

He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams

A fantasy of sumptuous sensuality
His reality

Where only straw the more his mind hallucinates
Creates desire and fire

His thoughts pour out upon the page
His thirst is never quenched, never tired

He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams
He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams
He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams
And dreams

He builds himself a fortress
Fills it with the lusty, beautiful and wise

Fantasy to fantasy
His kingdom is a playground for desire

And he the king within his walls
Deliberately locks the world outside

He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams

He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams
He dreams, he dreams, he dreams, he dreams
And dreams
And dreams

All the mind divine
A cornucopia of pleasure in his mind

But just a little sad for all these things he had
He waits and serves his time

With a wicked gleam he tastes his freedom
And sets out to realise

His dreams, his dreams, his dreams, his dreams
His dreams
(repeat to fade)


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