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chuck berry - my dream lyrics
when i build my home,
that i shall have some day;
it’ll be like i want it
oh – and i mean that in every way.
i have yet to see any
that would cope with the style –
of the house that i dream of;
that i’ll build after a while.
the roof of it will have peak lines,
and contours that dip;
and form shadowy eaves,
where the little raindrops can drip.
… that sweet pitter patter,
of raindrops at play –
is such a beautiful sound
on a quiet gloomy day.
you know, when the wind is high,
and the storm gods race,
and i’ll be snugged up
by my fire-place.
maybe feeding my little dog,
or playing with my little cat.
but unconsciously yearning,
and wonderin’ where you’re at.
but when the meadow is shadowed
by that old sinking sun;
and the roses are bowing
for the dew drops to come;
at my old upright piano,
with pure ivory keys,
i’ll just plunk out some vibrations
of whatever i please.
sometimes it’ll be cl-ssics,
sometimes lullabies;
but mostly rock n’ roll
that i’ll surely improvise.
and with my favourite guitar,
i’ll be just strummin’ away
and bidding goodbye,
to another beautiful day.
a portrait of my angel,
that i love most of all –
i’ll have painted from a snapshot
onto my bedroom wall.
where the suns warm rays,
and the moon’s cold beam
will cast her reflection,
as i lay there and dream.
you know, i can’t deny
but it makes me so sad,
when i think that i’ve lost
all that i could have had.
it was best for her –
and i guess i, i know;
that she measured my love –
and then asked me to go.
then finally my house,
i will have it complete.
and i’ll take up a smoke,
sitting by the window sill.
and i’ll read my many books
that i’ll have in my bachelors nest;
while the sun goes drooping
down in the west.
and i’ll feel that gold,
warm light on my face;
and then i’ll start trippin’
to some far off place.
that through all of my travels,
i must have missed somewhere –
a place that i might find
my angel someday.
and i’ll leave all that i have
to the gods, up above;
and go spend my life searching
for the angel, that i love.
for all of my dreams,
would be but a souvenir;
compared to the one
that i love so dear.
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