The air is cool
And the glowing moon hums softly to herself.
Below we sleep,
Rest our tired feet.
As the dish runs away with the spoon.

It's not long now 'til our rude awakening,
From this hazy ocean on which we're floating.
We'll sail to the shore in the morning;
Lift the anchor, drift away home.
We'll sail to the shore in the morning.
And we'll wait for the break of dawn.

A whispered breeze with knowing ease
Coaxes a worry away.
A splash of a light and gone is night
A forgotten melody.

Here it is now; our rude awakening,
From this hazy ocean on which we're floating.
We'll sail to the shore in the morning;
Lift the anchor, drift away home.
And we'll sail to the shore in the morning.
And we'll wait for the break of dawn.

We'll sail to the shore in the morning;
Lift the anchor, drift away home.
We'll sail to the shore in the morning.
And we'll wait for the break of dawn.