Whispers on the wind
Sly, silver songs
Bid me come
Come to the sea
Race along the sandy shore
Finger the frigid waves
Thrill to the cry of the gulls
And to the lonesome loons
Come, come to the sea
Let me buffet your hair
Tug at your scarf
Come, come race with me.
It comforts me
To caress your pillow
When you are not at home
It comforts me
I slide my hand
Along the sheet
It’s sharply cold
No human warmth is there
It’s silent
No soft sigh of breathing
No gentle murmur in your sleep
It comforts me
To caress your pillow
Now you will
Never come home
