My Music Box

I guess it's raining in Vegas

and it's snowing in L.A.

but does that matter anymore

when I'm holding this music box,

playing Feres Jacques at midnight

in the candlelit room with him.

It's snowing in L.A.

but I just think of Barbados

even though I've never been

and I am dreaming of that ballet,

locked inside my music box

that never seems to stop its melody

and haunts me in my dreams.

I just think of Barbados

when I'm lost in Malaysia

without the beautiful music box,

hidden underneath the sea,

losing its flowing dormez-voux

and never returning itself to me.