When tides at ease on the evening breeze,
and the scarlet moon starts its gentle rise,
the drowsy whale spouts a misty trail,
and the stars gather slowly in the skies.
These are the times when I know
how alone one can be
And I yearn to go once again
back to my girl down in Port of Spain.
On some distant shore as I walk the sand,
and watch the lovers meet,
they stand in the moonlight hand in hand,
with the surf breaking over their feet.
In Mandalay at a gay* café,
in the wee little hours of morn,
when guitars and violins end their play,
with a hymn to the goddess of dawn.
*damit war damals - 1961 - natürlich noch kein Schwulen-Treffpunkt gemeint, sondern ein fröhliches Café.