Three Well-Aimed Arrows

I had three dreams last night and one was a vision

The other two died in a nocturnal collision

One was a lost child and the other a lost friend

and I've got too much education to put off analyzing them

So pull up the blinds but please bleed the shutters

Cut the telephone lines and send a letter to those lovers

I emerged from my sleep and I counted my sorrows

You were one, two and three

You were three well-aimed arrows

The photographic image is so perfect it's cold

I burn ugly Ansel Adams in the winter to light my stove

While the image in the brain is either a missile or a carriage

One small impulse can raise a baby or sink the village

There's something under the surface that needs a light shone in its eyes

If you're securing a secret than you're preparing a lonesome surprise

I emerged from my sleep and I counted my sorrows

You were one, two and three

You were three well-aimed arrows

Three well-aimed arrows

I had three dreams last night and one was a vision

One carried a lantern and the other was dragging a curtain