meet me on the corner

The evening drink could've been a lyric from Lindisfarne. Meet me on the corner at nine, kinda thing.

Hey Mr Dreamseller, where have you been?
Tell me have you dreams I can see?
I came along, just to bring you this song,
Can you spare one dream for me?

When we arrived at the pub there were still vestiges of Halloweek sprinkled around. We all selected brews and adjourned into what was still a ghostly bar. Officially closed, there were cobwebs and spiders around the edges and what looked like the remnants of a previous evening's shindig.

Perfect for us to chatter at a round table overlooked by a svelte looking Confucius holding a dragon. Possibly after first meeting Lao Tzu? "Lao Tzu is a dragon, and I’ll never understand him."

You won't have met me, and you'll soon forget me,
So don't mind me tugging at your sleeve.
I'm asking you, if I can fix a rendezvous.
For your dreams are all I believe.

I should explain that some of the beers featured names in keeping with the recent zombie season. I couldn't spot any pullable beers with normal names except one from Sussex, which somehow seemed out of character for this far north.

So I chose the ale called Inception, which turned out to be a fine selection, worthy of taking to a few levels of depth, if you follow my line of thought.

Meet me on the corner when the lights are coming on,
And i'll be there, I promise i'll be there.
Down the empty streets we'll disappear until the dawn
If you have dreams enough to share.

Later that evening, after the doors of the pub had been resoundingly shut, I headed back across what was now a slightly more bendy bridge than it had appeared earlier in the evening. I'd certainly reached the third level of inception, although the water seemed to be staying in the proper place.

Lay down your bundles, of rags and reminders,
And spread your wares on the ground.
Well I've got time, if you deal in rhyme,
I'm just hanging around.