Sand

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