In the distance on the river
in the moonlight loom its sails.
In serenity it passes.
Just what is it it reveals?
I don't know but I'm not me
and the river isn't real
and the boat I think I see
and the night are how I feel.
And this love and hurt that mean
who knows what, they never say,
are the boats that always leave
and the nights that always stay.