Somewhere a band is playing, Playing the strangest tunes, Of sunflower seeds and sailors Somewhere a drummer simmers And trembles with times forlorn, Remembering days of summer In futures yet unborn. Futures so far they are ancient And with Egyptian dust, That smell of the tomb and the lilac, And seed that is spent from lust, And peach that is hung on a tree branch Far out in the sky from one's reach, There mummies as lovely as lobsters Remember old futures and teach. And children sit by on the stone floor And draw out their lives in the sands Remembering d**hs that won't happen In future unseen in far lands. Somewhere a band is playing Where the moon never sets in the sky And nobody sleeps in the summer And nobody puts down to die; And Time then just goes on forever And hearts then continue to beat To the sound of the old moon-drum drumming And the glide of Eternity's feet; Somewhere the old people wander And linger themselves into noon And sleep in the wheat fields yonder To rise as fresh children with moon. Somewhere the children, old, maunder And know what it is to be dead And turn in their weeping to ponder Oblivious filed ‘neath their bed. And sit at the long dining table Where Life makes a banquet of flesh, Where dis-able makes itself able And spoiled puts on new masks of fresh. Somewhere a band is playing Oh listen, oh listen, that tune! If you learn it you'll dance on forever In June… And yet June… And more… June… And d**h will be dumb and not clever And d**h will lie silent forever In June and June and more June.