i keep having dreams of pioneers and pirate ships and bob dylan of people wrapped up tight in the things that will kill them of being trapped in a lift plunging straight to the bottom of open seas and ways of life we ve forgotten i keep having dreams amy worked in a bar in exeter i went back to her house and i slept beside her she woke up screaming in the middle of the night terrified of her own insides dreams of pirate ships and patty hearst breaking through a life over rehearsed she can t remember which came first the house the home or the terrible thirst she keeps having dreams and on the worst days when it feels like life weighs ten thousand tons she s got her cowboy boots and car keys on the bedstand so she can always run she can get up shower and in half an hour she ll be gone i keep having dreams of things i need to do and waking up but not following through but it feels like i haven t slept at all when i wake to a silence and she s facing the wall posters of dylan and of hemingway an antique compass for a sailor s escape she says you just can t live this way and i close my eyes and i never say i m still having dreams and on the worst days when it feels like life weighs ten thousand tons i sleep with my passport one eye on the back door so i can always run i can get up shower and in half an hour i ll be gone and come morning i am disappeared just an imprint on the bedsheets i m by the roadside with my thumb out a car pulls up and bob s driving so i climb in we don t say a word as we pull off into the sunrise and these rivers of tarmac are like arteries across the country we are blood cells alive in the bloodstream the beating heart of the country we are electric pulses in the pathways of the sleeping soul of the country we are electric pulses in the pathways of the sleeping soul of the country we are electric pulses the sleeping soul of the country the sleeping soul of the country the sleeping soul of the country