I don’t know if this is normal or what, but a lot of my dreams have soundtracks. Sometimes I remember the dream with the soundtrack, sometimes I just remember the dream, and sometimes I just remember the soundtrack. This morning was the latter.
I woke from a dream that I don’t remember, except for this song. It’s a sweetly sad little waltz, from one of my favorite bands.
Toad the Wet Sprocket “Walk on the Ocean”
We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everything’s better, everything’s safe
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone
And half and hour later we packed up our things
We said we’d send letters and all those little things
And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
It seemed they’d already forgotten we’d came
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone
Now we’re back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don’t know you
And trust is a joke
We don’t even have pictures
Just memories to hold
That grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old
I remember, too. You are no dancer, and yet you danced. And it was wonderful.
I remember this song. I remember the reception. I remember that I am no dancer.