She Wore A Freudian Slip (early 1990's)

The slight brush of the red leaves against the window
Translated into the sliding off of a blue silk dress
Dans son reve

There was no sonic translation for that which followed,
but for the rattling of the washing machine full of sheets
La realite

And he hadn't heard that in his dream
He hadn't heard that in his dream
He had only heard the red leaves, as he
pulled the blue silk dress over her head
in the ballroom with the black and white checked floor
the ocean pounding on the marble steps which led
from the green grass yard to the gilded french doors

The dress would have been much more expensive to clean
and her slip was whiter than resplendent mother of pearl