Should the images remember her And pull threads of my expressions The songs never touched her scented skins In regret of strong emotions She prides herself on desert skies Finds pleasures in the sunsets of her mind Drinks the weeping tears of fallen men The spirit with the breath of life Alto saxophone solo: Gregg I knew before the spirit took her I saw right through her azure eyes The warm vibrations that came in floods Her songs that rained in tearful lines The sands of her... The dreams of her... The darkness of her... The spirit of her... The sands of her... The dreams of her... The darkness of her... The spirit of her... The sands of her... The dreams of her... The darkness of her... The spirit of her...