I sang a song. “I love it,” you said,
With a twinkling star in your eye.
I gathered your free sincerity
And sprang up oh, so high!
I next sent aloft “The Pilot’s Song,”
And your soft, light “Bravo!” flew,
And the sun did shine in a world made mine,
All glad and good and true.
Then some ten songs of happiness,
With never a moan or whine,
And we sat right fair in the open air
On a planet made divine.