Sycamore Trees
Sweet dreams 'till sunbeams find you,
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you,
Bittersweet, sinking in the midnight breeze,
That rustles the leaves of the sycamore trees.
Cold moonlight, pouring on the shore sweetly,
The waves seem to murmur, to whisper discreetly
Far away and under the sea,
Dream a little dream of me.
Before you forget, sleeping soundly forever,
Living your dreams in the depths of hte sea,
I wish you to dream of our loving endeavour.
And dream a little dream of me.
