They were cousins, almost sister and brother
Ages ago, last night
Their parents took them on a journey
From Brooklyn to Spring Valley, valley of light
They were only four or five, mist was glimmering
They walked along a path, deep into the valley
They opened a curtain, bright and shimmering
Ages ago, last night
The home of Uncle Irving and Aunt Irma
Always loomed in the distance, they never lost sight
Of the home, white and glimmering
A magnet, as they walked along the light
Were angels flitting over the path
Were the cousins beavers and crows
Did a curtain open, did a curtain close
As they walked along the light
Julianne married, moved to the City of Angels
Facing west, near the shore of Malibu
Did she cross the sands of Anza-Borrego
Did a curtain open, did a leaf fall through
Years past, Brandon moved west
Then back east, back to Brooklyn, Gravesend Bay
Near the shore of Brighton
Where he wanders still
Brandon and Julianne once
Asked each other
Do you remember the Valley of Light?
Did a curtain open, did a curtain close
Ages ago, last night