The sands sleep beneath the mists
As the breath of time sets in
And the memory of you
Settles soft upon my skin
I feel your hand of time entwined in mine
As you call me your El Cid
I return the devotion , calling you Jimena , my devine
And across the morning mist
We will once again walk hand in hand

In a latter day I found a wonder
But no where near the age
I am sadden by the book
With the many missing page

If you are my Jabal Tariq
Then I will be your rock El Cid

But far across there is such distance
That no man can rid
Perhaps in another life
Closer we will be . . . .
And I will return as your El Cid
As you my Jemena , come back to me