White Cliffs Of Dover
When the day is falling over
And a crescent moon peeps through
I am looking towards Dover
It is not too far from you
There is not a sign of cloud
In the muted blue of sky
It’s a picture without sound
Breathing softly drifts on by
And I see white cliffs of Dover
Though farsighted I am not
Hear the whirring of your mower
What a hearing I’ve got
In the quiet of a moment
In the glow of fading blue
I can sense more than I wanted
Except that I can’t see you.
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