Blood on my pillow, I guess I fought in my dreams. Blood on my pillow, Nothing is what it seems.
Was I murdered in my sleep? Have I morphed into a ghost? Did the bullet sink deep, To send me to the Lord of hosts?
Reality is a phantasm Life is an apparition The truth becomes sarcasm And my enemies turn to derision
Blood on my pillow, Has my life come to an end? Liquid spills off the edge- Will another chance, my Creator lend?
My heart burns with regret As I gaze at my mortal host Russian Roulette and a bet Last night, my enemies had a toast
Blood on my pillow, I guess I fought in my dreams Irony of existence- Nothing is what it seems.
Written By Clinton Durueke