Chuck Berry - My Dream - Текст песни

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 classics, 
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.