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I'm hearing the light from the window, |
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I'm seeing the sound of the sea, |
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My feet have come loose from their moorings, |
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I'm feeling quite wonderfully free. |
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And I think I will travel to Rio |
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Using the music for flight, |
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There's nothing I know of in Rio, |
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But it's something to do with the night. |
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It's only a whimsical notion |
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To fly down to Rio tonight, |
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And I probably won't fly down to Rio, |
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But then again, I just might. |
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There's wings to the thought behind fancy, |
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There's wings to the thought behind play |
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And dancing to rhythms of laughter |
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Makes laughter the rhythm of rain. |
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And I think I will travel to Rio |
|
Using the music for flight, |
|
There's nothing I know of in Rio, |
|
But it's something to do with the night. |
|
It's only a whimsical notion |
|
To fly down to Rio tonight, |
|
And I probably won't fly down to Rio, |
|
But then again, I just might. |
|
I feel such a sense of well-being, |
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The problems have come to be solved, |
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And what I thought was proper for battle |
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I see now is proper for love. |
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And I think I will travel to Rio |
|
Using the music for flight, |
|
There's nothing I know of in Rio, |
|
But it's something to do with the night. |
|
It's only a whimsical notion |
|
To fly down to Rio tonight, |
|
And I probably won't fly down to Rio, |
|
But then again, I just might. |
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Reno? Why Reno? |
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Not Reno, dummy. |
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Rio, Rio de Janeiro. |
