In quiet times, in silent times,
In times when thinking stops,
I see people in my head.
Are they real, are they dreams,
Are they spirits of the dead?
Can I help them, can they help me,
Am I real to them at all?
They soon fade, and then they're gone,
And I'm left wtih aimless thinking,
And I'm weary, and I'm tired,
And my eyelids slowly fall.