Second dream: I'm on a bus. We are musicians in a band going to our next gig. I am playing my banjo and the others are listening. The music is quite beautiful. I start to put words to the song and come up with, "Pretty boys, pretty boys" and then the slow soft melody builds to a crescendo and the words "anger, anger, anger." The boys in the bus lose interest. It had looked to be very special and beautiful song and then I had ruined it by "trivializing" the beautiful music. The bus is slowing down and I put the banjo in its case, picking up lots of finger picks that had fallen out on the floor.