Dreams seen by a man-made machine How does it seem, how does it seem That we can see each others dreams That we can see each others dreams (Last night sleep, only to the beat) She hold green onions in her hand She listens to the sound of the band A bed of green spam grows in her head Talking to the rising sun Yes she's talking to the rising sun (Oh papa-papa there, yeah yeah papa-papa cares) (Oh moma-moma there, yeah yeah moma-moma cares)