And it's a fact, you are cold, they react, dream GerrardnHippos don't wear hats, lobsters shriek if provokednOn long blue ribbonsnThat he may see while he sleepsnnMonsieur Old Neddy, he wears spectacles in bednThat he may see dreams more clearlynThe night, it will be black, and white raven croakingnI am thirsty, die, they won't let it bennThey think it should be done with realitynI scream from a skull. Fritz, bring your wigwamnThey won't let it benThey think it should be done with reality, with realitynnThey won't let it benThey think it should be done with reality, with reality