The moon shines silvery in the sky,
    Its moonbeam move and gently sigh,
They glow a soft and radiant light,
    They touch the clouds and turn them white,
        They live and die,
        They walk on high,
They lay like cotton in the night.
        The clouds go scuddering,
        The wind sets them shuddering,
Scared of the shadow that flies on the breeze,
    The spectres that grow high over the seas,
        The demons that stalk,
        The spirits that talk,
The visions that flow and move through the trees.
The clouds fly away, they seek to be free,
They scatter and play, then suddenly flee,
        They dance and they hide,
        The breezes they ride,
The moonlight they flay, quietly watching the tide
A figure then soars in front of the moon,
        The little clouds run faster.
He's come at last, they say, too soon,
        They quickly flee their master.
They spring upright, prepared for flight,
    His eyes are glowing, shining bright,
        His fiery breath sets winds alight,
            The dragon flies tonight.

Through rainbow rings, he glides and sings,
    His golden wings, like ancient kings,
        Do glow and shine, a rich red wine,
    So splendrous is their gleaming.
His wings do tear the wind, they dare
    To move through the air, they show no care,
        They float serenely, 
        Soaring cleanly,
They catch the cold moon's beaming.
Through the air, they send light streaming,
    The clouds they rend, so softly screaming,
        His flaming breath, forever steaming,
            Shoots out a burning flare.
His scales, glinting copper, glow,
The moonlight's tinting on them flow,
        Armour bronze and beaten gold,
            Forged in heat, now icy cold,
        Formed without a single blow,
            Orange bright and burnished yellows,
Shining out, a symbol bold,
    Stars turn about, this noise untold,
        A mighty shout, the clouds their places hold:
            The dragon roars and bellows.

His mighty head gleams gold and red,
And one by one, the clouds have fled,
    They flee and run, his face they dread,
    They hide and shun the flames he's shed,
        Like flares from the sun,
            In the darkness they stun,
The clouds in their flight, fleeing through night
    By fire to hell they've been led.
His eyes glow and gleam, like red hot coals,
    His orbits, they beam, two fiery holes,
        Like polished jewels,
            Like rubies bright,
        They burn their fuels,
            They shed their light,
Like burning tools, they fight their duels,
    The moonbeams they attempt to fight,
        The silvery streams his eyes excite,
            The dragon screams in his delight.

His nostrils, glowing embers, blow,
    A giant, smouldering smoking stack,
The mighty scorching blazes grow,
        They parch the air and turn it black,
            The sky they crack,
            The sparks attack,
He waves his head and throws it back.
He flies, a searing, seething pyre,
    With flashes red, his breath on fire,
        A furnace brightly burning higher;
He leaves a trail of smoke and ash,
    His flames with frail raindrops clash,
        He sweeps his tail,
            Encased in mail,
        Through snow and hail,
            The thunders wail,
And watch the flames as down they smash,
    His fiery games,
        The clouds he maims,
            He burns them in to blackened trash,
                The dragon turns, his fires flash.

[EXTRA VERSE]

He's moving now, towards the sea,
    Towards the ocean, falling free,
The waves, his cold and watery bed,
    Cry out one last, one final plea,
The tide, which from his body fled,
    Calls out unto his memory,
        "This grave is his eternally."
            The dragon now is dead.
  

                                1975