I dreamed a dream in time gone by when hopes were high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die. I dreamed that God would be forgiving. Then I was young and unafraid, and dreams were made and used and wasted. There was no ransom to be payed, no song unsung, no wine untasted. But the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder, as they tear your hope apart, as they turn your dreams to shame. And still I dreamed she'll come to me that we will live the years together, but there are dreams that cannot be, and there are storms we cannot weather. I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I'm living, so different now from what it seemed. Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.
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