In a world of conflict and scheming,
may I never awaken from dreaming
of someday being able to float
out -- out in my own little boat --
out on a moon-lit bay
where tropical waters play
and a cooling breeze drifts by.
The salt sea air would be bracing --
would set my weary heart racing --
there on that moon-bright bay.
Only gulls overhead, as they fly, and I,
would hear, from the sandy shore,
the palms as they rustle. I sigh --
oh -- I never would ask for more
than to float on the nurturing sea --
only you and the moon there with me.