In my dreams, I always met the same man
Who always went by the name of Dan.
He never existed before, yet never existed then.
He doesn't exist now, and he will never exist again.
He lived in a tower made entirely of rock,
Walking in tune with his old pendulum clock.
I'd be standing outside with my hands on the wall
And Dan would step out of his balcony and begin to fall.
A thick rope 'round his neck would stop him from hitting the ground
So I'd watch him choke endlessly without making a sound.