They twitch with you, they scream with you
They travel with you to your wildest dreams.
All you see, all you feel
That all they keep and that all they see.
They are in charge of tabbing your feels
For all the things throughout the day.
Then night might come, or day will do,
They construct all your quirky dreams.
They give you the taste of your favourite dress,
They give you the smell of a new leather seat.
But now or then, they tire out
of good stuff In and out
And that night, or day it may,
You are left with horrors too bad for sight,
Too bad for thought, too bad for touch
As the distance sound their giggles unheard.