Cindy Dreams of California
(Bob Gibson)

Snowdrifts rise outside my window.
I sit and wonder, "Where did spring go?"
I can tell from her face,
She needs a warmer place.

Busy people, they surround her.
Never smiling, they astound her.
Busy runnin' their race,
She needs a slower pace.

Cindy dreams of California,
Rollin' hills and gentle skies.
Cindy dreams of windswept oceans,
Quiet places, other faces
Rise from the depth of her memory
And shine through her eyes.