I hope the night will soon bring a dream
wherein we'll see spring flowers and trees,
in the ball field playing on a team,
of sweet wild love making honey bees.
We'll take their sweetness right from their hive,
then we'll race away laughing, quickly
running, to our swimming pool to dive
into the water--splash deep--swiftly.

In over our heads, completely wet,
smothered in each other's company,
we'll surface for air without regret,
all dressed in black at the symphony.
Then it's on to the royal court ball,
in a horse drawn coach with a wet bar.
There we'll dance all night, 'til the last call
shouts out and the band plays "Morning Star."

Home again, home again, where we'll eat
croissants and drink pink champagne on ice.
Sleeping still--still asleep--we'll dream sweet
of the simple things which add the spice
to life and ev'rything nice... complete.
Simply dreaming: drums, chopsticks and rice;
Simply singing: "lady red, so sleek;"
Simply waking from deep... sleep... once... twice...