Should the images remember her   And pull the threads of my expressions   The songs never touched by 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 falling men   The spirit with the breath of life      [Alto Saxophone solo: Gregg Rossetti]      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...