As the daylight sinks

The strangest dreams have been haunting me these past few nights. Most of them have just been stupid and involving acquaintances I'd rather not dream about. Only one short scene of one of the many twisted dreams has actually featured an individual of pleasant countinance. Even that was frustrating though because, although I knew it was her, she was portrayed by a large black woman. Talk about aggrivating - the saving grace of my dreams is trapped behind a paper bag of William P. Young's fancy. So I'm taking action. Here I sit with two things in this world that will never foresake us - gifts from our good Lord. Tea and folk music. A little prayer thrown in and I think we'll have a "weapon X" remedy to thwart of the weirdness of that bewitching hour.