Nancy Sinatra - 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: 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