I do not understand

I lie in the dark, still half-tangled in the tendrils of a nightmare. My hands no longer claws and my legs no longer those of a gigantic cat, I can move. Put on a coat and slip, barefoot and silent, out into the rainswept dark. Out into the starry night.
Old habits reek of nostalgia, or the sense of longing an old man once mentioned. Pinch your nose and dive in, kid. Just don't forget to breathe while you're under, writhing in the dark like some deepborn thing.
Into the garden I burst, squinting in the bright. He steps close; guides my hand. I do not understand. Head thrown back, he basks in the sun's golden afternoon glow. My fingers are trapped between his and a hard place and he moves me. Faster. Faster. I do not understand.
He leaves me alone, then, with the butterflies and thesugarsnaps. I can hear cows in the near distance. I lean against the blue wall, 'round the side of the old weatherboard house in the slanting honey light. There's something sticky on my hand. I do not understand.
Once again, I wake.

There's a drumming in the distance
Far above the clouds, above the mountains
Sound cuts the sky like broken glass
And they say it's the end of the world
There's a whisper in the darkness
In the cracks between the rocks, in the damp
The fairy-things are buzzing
And they say it's the end of the world
There's a war upon the pavement
For this blood-spattered, filth-breathing city
Men in robes are weeping in the streets
And they say it's the end of the world
There's a strangeness in the morning
In the bleak sky, grey sky cracking
In the sunlight on the dew-damp trees
Far cry from the end of the world