Words by Tony Palacios and Steve Taylor
Music by Tony Palacios

Each night the dream began
We were sitting there waiting on our coffee cans
Eyes fixed upon the skies
I was thinking of you and if I qualified
Then when the trumpet blew
The reality hit, this wasn't pay-per view
My can lifted up and out
Until a siren wailed and a megaphone shouted

Pull that bucket over
Let me see your registration
You'll be questioned at the station by a good cop/bad cop
If they find you guilty they'll impound your can in Hades
Where the grounded lads and ladies had it good 'til the last drop

I watched the others fly
On their coffee cans as they waved goodbye
Freed from the earthly grind
They had escaped the roast, I'd been identified
Dream Police -- nowhere to be found
I was left here choking on the muddy grounds
I calmed down and reached for my Pez
But the head on the dispenser was Juan Valdez

CHORUS

Tossing in my sleep again
The metaphor was wearing thin
Unil my nightmare stretched it even more
Lord, you placed the bitter cup against your lips
And drank it up to bring me where You are
I can't believe I've wandered off this far

Woke up and smelled the coffee
I don't like what caffeine does to me
God's got a pull, I've felt first hand
I gotta stop believing in my coffee can

CHORUS

Bad dream, but I understand
That you can't get to Heaven on a coffee can