Writer(s): J. G. M. Glick / F. K. Logan
Out of my love that eventide, monstrous clouds even pine
Footsteps echo by my side, the spirit takes a sign
Twilight skies are all alight across the deep lagoon,
A face is breaking through the night, my Indian maid Pale Moon.
Speak through thy love forsaken, thy spirit mantle grow.
Ere thou the great white dawn awaken and through the sea thou swingest low,
Then to the west, I’ll follow across the deep lagoon,
Swift as a flying arrow, to thy abode, Pale Moon.