The moon on the water, she follows me far,
We wander a mile for each evening star,
And as the moon tires, she falls in my arm;
I'll cradle the stars and she'll come to no harm.
By the light of the morning, she looks to the skies,
The dew of the dawn are the tears in her eyes.
An overhead sunrise, it cannot compare,
I'll walk on the breeze and she'll follow me there.
