Scattered far and wide across his dream
Like seashells in the morning tide
Waiting to be found and treasured
By some wandering child of fortune
His thoughts they now take wing and fly
Aloft upon her memory’s breeze
Soaring higher in trade winds free
Then vanish in the distance there
A melody from Pan’s own lips across
The pipe’s of lover’s hearts
Send echoes toward the setting sun
A day long he has yearned for her
And in the stillness of the night
As shadows of the day wane fast
And others close their eyes to sleep
They hold each other trembling
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