A drum, a drum for every kiss for which the lips will wake,
You kiss an imp (a drum, a drum) that flails, disintegrates.
The moon will hang with all its stars that watch with quiet faces,
The years our hands won't know the feel of cold and empty spaces.

When we grow old, acacias will come with open lungs,
While happiness's sugar hat is melting on our tongues,
They'll say hello (a drum, a drum) and thank us for our love
--The kind of beauty that ensures the care from those above.

A drum, a drum for every dream that gave us more to grasp,
For every heel that our two hearts were forced to have to pass.
In time we found that if we must, we'd breathe beneath the sea,
Your inhale rousing my exhale, your warmth enfolding me.

Our orange sky will come sometimes to talk about our lives,
How it saw our smiles embrace and heartfelt, slow goodbyes,
And when I rest and think about the place we started from,
I'll close my eyes and, fluently, I'll hear a drum, a drum.