When a night calypso's singing
And the moon's been busy stringing
A thousand stars out on the Milky Way to dry;
When the dew's begun to settle
And the sky's so stark that it'll
Make you want to laugh out even as you cry,

Let the fiercely stinging madness,
Strong enough to drown the sadness,
Lift you up into the passive heavy blue.
For there you'll be free to wander,
Up there hearts are flung asunder,
And a reckless, joyous ride's waiting for you.

Back to misty golden mornings,
Our old fantasises a-dawning,
And the sweeping tides come rushing to your feet
Carrying ghosts of long-gone laughter,
And the tales of ever after,
And a finished canvas painted bittersweet.