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Sand

de Nancy Sinatra

Lee:
Young woman share your fire with me
My heart is cold, my soul is free
I am a stranger in your land
A wandering man, call me sand

Nancy:
Oh sir my fire is very small
It will not warm thy heart at all
But thee may take me by the hand
Hold me and I'll call thee sand

Lee:
Young woman share your fire with me
My heart is cold, my soul is free
I am a stranger in your land
A wandering man, call me sand

Nancy:
At night when stars light up the sky
Oh sir I dream my fire is high
Oh taste these lips sir if you can
Wandering man, I call thee sand

Nancy:
Oh sir my fire is burning high
If it should stop sir I would die
A shooting star has crossed my land
Wandering man

Lee:
She whispered sand

Nancy:
(Whispers) Sand

Lee:
Young woman shared her fire with me
Now warms herself with memory
I was a stranger in her land
A wandering man, she called me sand

Nancy:
He was a stranger in my land
A wandering man

Lee:
She called me sand

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