There once was a lady, a dusty song she knew,
She sang it in the dead of night, to the star-lit sky,
And when she so did, the song would last minutes few,
And it would whisper in your home and the air it would dry,
But worry not, for the lady listens for your cue,
And at its' arrival, she rises to the stars up high,
A ghost of the moon-lit sky, but just as foolish as me and you.
Don't wait, or you might miss it,
Take a look and you'll never see,
Just let the singing lady be.