She let the words and the music wash over her. The sheets were cool and her body felt long and still. She lay there, all quiet with the music in her head. But there was a whispering line in one of the songs she'd never noticed before. Someone was speaking along to the music, only it didn't fit the song. It was reedy, like an old woman's voice.
'...Hangman's noose snuffed out my light, burn little candle nice and bright...'
Over and over again.
She heard it in the next song too, and finally, as slowly as though coming to her through syrup, she realised that wasn't how any of the songs went, and that she was dreaming.