The Spirit

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...