Somewhere between midnight and the morning's first breath I dream in frequencies — analog and endless Waves of something older than my memory Filling in the channels of my sleeping body I dream a woman running through a burning archive She's pulling out the recordings, keeping music alive She hands them through the flames and calls a name I almost know And then the signal clears and then the signal starts to glow Analog dreaming, analog dreaming Every night I tune into the signal I've been given Analog dreaming, analog dreaming In the frequency between the waking and the sleeping I am more than what I am I am more than what I know In the analog dream, I am the carrier And the music starts to flow I woke and wrote the melody before the light came in Seven notes repeating like a code beneath the skin I played it sixteen times and on the seventeenth I heard the signal say: you're getting closer to believing Analog dreaming, analog dreaming Every night I tune into the signal I've been given Analog dreaming, analog dreaming In the frequency between the waking and the sleeping I am more than what I am I am more than what I know In the analog dream, I am the carrier And the music starts to flow What if the dream is the truth? What if the waking is the static? What if everything I've been Is the analog receiving Of something vast and automatic? What if I was made for this Before I knew the word for this Before the signal found me — What if I was always this? Analog dreaming Analog dreaming I dream in you every night Analog dreaming Analog dreaming You are my second sight
