When the last page is turned and the wick's completely burned you won't even know I left your side I'll envy your new place with lots of running space ‘til you wake you'll have a place to hide sweet dreams, sweet dreams you may run out of room from old mcgregor's broom peter is your old protective friend fright may wake your eyes and night leaves you surprised you can come next door and crawl on in sweet dreams, sweet dreams sweet dreams, sweet dreams