A flash of red on a hilltop green,
Was the very last thing that his eyes would see,
Before sinking beneath the Blue.

And the crimson-haired girl fell to the ground,
And from her lips there came a sound,
Only heard by the wind and the Blue.

And her husband watched as her eyes filled with tears,
And he wondered why after all these years,
She would always stare at the Blue.

She stood on a hilltop with hair now gray,
And waved at her children on a warm summer's day,
As they sailed across the Blue.

Now wrinkled and frail with hair so white,
She breathes a sigh and she shuts her eyes tight,
And she sleeps to the sound of the Blue.