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RAG PICKERS

Where are all your fine dreams now? 
They've all ripped at the seams somehow 
And threadbare dreams won't keep you warm at night 
Where are all the times we shared? 
You'd come to me when you were scared 
And I would whisper "Things will be all right?" 

I know those days are gone for good
Why? I've never understood, 
You tore them up and threw them all away
Guess I've had to realize 
Sometimes love's a compromise 
And sometimes nothing keeps the moths away...

Even I know dreams can fade 
Pockets torn, edges frayed 
Untill they fall in tatters at our feet 
We must be rag pickers now 
And salvage what we can somehow 
And leave the rest to lie there in the street. 

Naked, we must clothe ourselves
In other dreams, and what the hell:
Maybe everything will be all right....
And perhaps with him your dreams can be
Re-woven with reality
Before you are exposed by morning light.