I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die; I dreamed that God would be for giving. Then I was young and unafraid, and dreams were made and used and wasted. There was no ransom to be paid, no song unsong, no wine untested. But the tigers come at night, whit their voices soft as thunder, as they tear your hope apart, and thoy turn your dream to shame. And still I dream he'll come to me, that we will live the years together, but there're dreams that cannot be, and there're storms we cannot weather. I had a dream mi life would be, so different from this hell I'm living, so different now from what it seeamed; now life has killed the dream I dreamed.