Soft wind, cool wind, from a blue lagoon.
Strong wind, friendly wind,
Sings a happy tune.
Wind brings ships home,
Sends them out again.
I see them from a mountaintop
Through misty pine trees.
Some of the ships contain beautiful stairways,
But not more beautiful than mine
To my blue lagoon.
The wind becomes a river,
Becomes a rock,
Becomes a hill.
I am in my blue lagoon,
Blue now, still.
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