The Strange Innerdweller Lyrics

I walked one morning
In the beginning of the last of June
Of which all I could recover
Was myself in a dream
In an ancient castle
A very natural dream
With a great staircase
And a giant hand in armor
In the evening
I sat down
And begun to write
Without knowing
The work grew in my hands
And I grew fond of it
My hands and my fingers
Were all so wearily
I could not hold the pen anymore
To finish the sentence
Create the uncreation
Build the unseen
I am the strange innerdweller