It begins with a blessing And it ends with a curse; Making life easy, By making it worse; My mask is my Master, The trumpeter weeps, But his voice is so weak As he speaks from his sleep, saying Why, why, why, why are we sleeping! People are watching, People who stare; Waiting for something That's already there. Tomorrow I'll find it , The trumpeter screams, And remembers he's hungry And drowns in his dreams, saying Why, why, why, why are we sleeping! My head is a nightclub With glasses and wine; The customers dancing Or just making time; While David is cursing The customers scream! Now everyone's shouting, "Get out of my dreams!"