| When I first saw your trespasser
|
| He wandered uninvited to your door
|
| He seemed to know his way around
|
| Although I’d never seen his face before
|
| Pausing for a moment underneath your window ledge
|
| He turned around to see the shadow of the sundial on the hedge
|
| There was a tightness in his face as though he were on edge
|
| I don’t know why
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| But I seem to see him all the time
|
| You said if there’s a trespasser
|
| There must be a footprint or a sign
|
| And what would he be looking for
|
| There’s nothing here for anyone to find
|
| And while you tried to say it couldn’t be I realized
|
| That you could feel no sense of danger and you didn’t seem surprised
|
| I got the feeling that you knew more than you said but felt advised
|
| To keep it in
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| But I seem to see him all the time
|
| Now I see your trespasser go wandering alone
|
| Sometimes he’s standing by the flowers or melting in the stone
|
| And even when I cannot see him I can feel it in my bones
|
| That he’s still there
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| But I seem to see him all the time
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| You see him in your dreams
|
| But I seem to see him all the time |