When the Last Page Is Turned

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