and she went to bed
at the place
where Yesterdays sleep.
no, she won't wake
sleeping dogs from their rest.
the past is in the past
is in the past.
and she made her a bed
from the dreams of the yore
and she's sure,
yes, she's sure,
now she's sure.
and the yesterdays sleep.
so does she,
little girl,
wraped up in shrouds of ancient,
covered tight in her curl.
when the night comes, she'll know,
there'll be morning no more.
she is certain in past
but in future's unsure.