Sand

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 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 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 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 Oh sir my fire is burning high If it should stop sir I would die A shooting star has crossed my land Wandering man She whispered sand Sand 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 He was a stranger in my land A wandering man She called me sand --- Sand - Nancy Sinatra