You must put these dreams aside, they will only break your heart.

And the world is busting at its seams; And you're just a prisoner of your dreams. Holding on for your life 'cause you work all day To blow 'em away in the night.

And the wind blows, the dust clouds darken the desert blue, pale sand and red dust drift across the asphalt trails and tumbleweeds fill the arroyos. Good-bye, come again. (p. 34)

Scattered in the wind
Earthboy calls me from my dreams:
Dirt is where the dreams must end.

Dreams turn to dust in light of day.

Blowing,Blowing
The gray slabs
Will lose you
the winds will flick you away
In a whiff

When your dreams turn to dust, vacuum.

Enough of dreams! No longer mock The burdened hearts of men! Not on the cloud, but on the rock Build thou thy faith again; O range no more the realms of air, Stoop to the glen-bound streams; Thy hope was all too like despair: Enough, enough of dreams.

God will break your heart.

Love is a thunderstorm, and I am the desert.

Dreams, she said. Broken dreams are bad enough. But the dream that has no hope...the dream that is doomed long before it’s broken, that’s the worst of all.

Blows are what awaken us and help to break the dream. They show us the insufficiency of this world and make us long to escape, to have freedom.

Blow it up.

The desert takes our dreams away from us, and they don't always return. We know that, and we are used to it. Those who don't return become a part of the clouds, a part of the animals that hide in the ravines and of the water that comes from the earth. They become part of everything... They become the Soul of the World.