Uploaded March 2014 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
My Early Song for a Friend I knew back in College.
From the PASA Winter Songworks Open Stage. Recorded and Produced by Jon Sherling
The Legend of the Sandraly Saint
A whispered call from a rainbow's wall, where her memory is still hung
Told of a golden girl from a fairy tale, yet to be put down
It was a silver scene from a child's dream, in the play before the dawn
I was told her name was cleococaine, but her friends call her Sandra
Was It real? ,Oh, yes, it was
Did you Love? I had no choice
Did you know? Oh, yes, because
Was she pretty? Oh, yes, she was
Did she love? Oh, yes, she does
With the languid legions from the far beneath, she led them to the pier
And trampled upon the flowered palms that had fallen from her hair
Then led them down the streets of Rome, to a sea no longer there
Then kept the sand in her Easter hands, to give each their share
Was it true?, Yes, it was, Sir
Did you see it? I was there
Did she have to? No, she was glad
Did they realize? I don't think they cared
Did She break ? I think she repaired
With her Silvia colored goblet, she offered charcoal wine
To the thirsty radical Demons, that beset her mother's mind
Just a daughter to the pilgrim's plight, a pioneer of chance
Left alone in an Angel's room, to teach three Gods to dance
Did it hurt her? I think it did
Did it hurt you? Sir, Yes I think it did
Did she heal? It was never said
Did she cry? Oh, how she wept
Did she forgive? Oh, yes sir she did
With the stereo jester on her wall, and her music minded myths
And her sunning smile, and her stunning styles, wore upon her breath
And her Phoenix fingers, and her fancy fate, as a sleep Queen of dream beds
Just a frightened girl by the swimming pool, a coronation never meant
Did it last Son? A thousand years
Did it stay? A thousand tears
Did it reach? A thousand fears
Did it hold Son? A thousand tears
Did it fall? In a single care
With her Saturday face and her phony hate, she waited by the phone
Till the Genie of the fallen leaves had taken all she owned
And the Prince of the passing time reclaimed her beauty crown
But only me and Sandy knew that call would never come
Do you remember? Yes I do Sir
Did she stay? No, she left
And the phone? Well She still has that yet
Will you follow? No, Sir, I can't
Tell me why, son? Well you can't touch a Saint
Did you love her? Thru time and death
My Early Song for a Friend I knew back in College.
From the PASA Winter Songworks Open Stage. Recorded and Produced by Jon Sherling
The Legend of the Sandraly Saint
A whispered call from a rainbow's wall, where her memory is still hung
Told of a golden girl from a fairy tale, yet to be put down
It was a silver scene from a child's dream, in the play before the dawn
I was told her name was cleococaine, but her friends call her Sandra
Was It real? ,Oh, yes, it was
Did you Love? I had no choice
Did you know? Oh, yes, because
Was she pretty? Oh, yes, she was
Did she love? Oh, yes, she does
With the languid legions from the far beneath, she led them to the pier
And trampled upon the flowered palms that had fallen from her hair
Then led them down the streets of Rome, to a sea no longer there
Then kept the sand in her Easter hands, to give each their share
Was it true?, Yes, it was, Sir
Did you see it? I was there
Did she have to? No, she was glad
Did they realize? I don't think they cared
Did She break ? I think she repaired
With her Silvia colored goblet, she offered charcoal wine
To the thirsty radical Demons, that beset her mother's mind
Just a daughter to the pilgrim's plight, a pioneer of chance
Left alone in an Angel's room, to teach three Gods to dance
Did it hurt her? I think it did
Did it hurt you? Sir, Yes I think it did
Did she heal? It was never said
Did she cry? Oh, how she wept
Did she forgive? Oh, yes sir she did
With the stereo jester on her wall, and her music minded myths
And her sunning smile, and her stunning styles, wore upon her breath
And her Phoenix fingers, and her fancy fate, as a sleep Queen of dream beds
Just a frightened girl by the swimming pool, a coronation never meant
Did it last Son? A thousand years
Did it stay? A thousand tears
Did it reach? A thousand fears
Did it hold Son? A thousand tears
Did it fall? In a single care
With her Saturday face and her phony hate, she waited by the phone
Till the Genie of the fallen leaves had taken all she owned
And the Prince of the passing time reclaimed her beauty crown
But only me and Sandy knew that call would never come
Do you remember? Yes I do Sir
Did she stay? No, she left
And the phone? Well She still has that yet
Will you follow? No, Sir, I can't
Tell me why, son? Well you can't touch a Saint
Did you love her? Thru time and death
