My dreamgirl don't exist. At the age of five she slit her wrist. She didn't know that I'd be hanging around. So her parents buried her in the ground. And this day I can still hear the sound. Of a life in outerspace. My dreamgirl don't exist. Just you and I and this TV. And this illness seems to feel so strange. Like a henchman that's about to hang. The moon up like a ball and chain. And set the sands ablaze. And the weight is waiting ah. Feel the world so real and strong. My dreamgirl don't exist. Took her photograph from a history book. I believe she had a voice and name. Three children on the coast of maine. Her life was in a hurricane. Of love and real embrace. My dreamgirl dont exist. At the age of five she slit her wrist. She didnt know that I'd be hanging around. So one day she took a stroll to town. And walked in front of a greyhound bound. For New York central state. And the weight is waiting oh. And the weight is waiting oh. Feel the world so real and strong. She goes and now she knows she'll never be afraid