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Processions

	作词 : Whitney
	John Whitney
	A small boy, bucket in hand.
	Building castles in the sand
	Thinking of his life that lies ahead.
	An engine driver, sailor, why not a king
	Of the sand castle as the gypsy woman said
	Taking a ride on a dinkie rail
	A green engine that's old
	Could be a royal procession through
	Big city streets
	Waving to the crowds from a sand carpet of gold
	Shaking hands of the V.I.R's one meets
	Sailing a toyboat in a rock pool
	Thinking that it could be
	The Queen Mary, passing the Cape Horn tip.
	Something majestic, sailing world wide seas.
	Attention please, I'm the captain of the ship
	After all these thoughts and more
	The boy returned to find
	That the sandcastles were washed into the sea.
	Head in hands, eyes full of tears.
	And a mixed up mind.
	The gypsy woman can't foresee the years.

	zuò cí : Whitney
	John Whitney
	A small boy, bucket in hand.
	Building castles in the sand
	Thinking of his life that lies ahead.
	An engine driver, sailor, why not a king
	Of the sand castle as the gypsy woman said
	Taking a ride on a dinkie rail
	A green engine that' s old
	Could be a royal procession through
	Big city streets
	Waving to the crowds from a sand carpet of gold
	Shaking hands of the V. I. R' s one meets
	Sailing a toyboat in a rock pool
	Thinking that it could be
	The Queen Mary, passing the Cape Horn tip.
	Something majestic, sailing world wide seas.
	Attention please, I' m the captain of the ship
	After all these thoughts and more
	The boy returned to find
	That the sandcastles were washed into the sea.
	Head in hands, eyes full of tears.
	And a mixed up mind.
	The gypsy woman can' t foresee the years.