Sleep's head is at dreampoint,
   where permanance of smoke is,
   where moonlight turns planes pink,
   a world with a redder sun.

   Sleep's head is at dreampoint,
   a high rock, prduential over plains
   and here the sun shows grasses
   where iron turns weapons to true North.

   Sleep's head is at dreampoint,
   with a café that has a zinc bar,
   berrylium toppings are free here,
   and the paths are glass.

   Sleep's head at dreampoint
   sounds like an address;
   the wage of death is love,
   and this is a loving country,
   here in the Little Death,
   here, Sleepshead at Dreampoint,
   when the Earth's sun has gotten old.