Flying high above the clouds
We lay in the grassy meadow
The earth was like a pillow
For our dreams
Trials never entered into any conversation
That was the relation
Of our dreams
As a change
In the wind must come
Over the mountain
And the seasons
Roll under the sun
Passing the shadows
Of our dreams
Ah! Fine Lady
Of the north
Like silver
On the ocean shore
Like breeze
Whispers through the trees
Writer(s): Gene Clark, Douglas Dillard
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