There is a legend in the land of California of a Queen who rides by night and taunts the watchers of the heart to follow
And this I've heard and of the few who've seen her fewer yet have followed

They say she comes at midnight
And picks her lovers carefully
So very carefully, without a sound
This lady of the night
La Senora Del Noche, Dios
She rides a white-spotted stallion
And wears a suit of red Spanish wine
And fills a blouse of white Spanish lace
A black cordovan hat with dancing fringe adorns her face
Her face smooth as almonds
Her raven locks, curling at the temples
And her eyelids, how they quiver with dignity
And her eyes, Oh! her eyes, like sabers, sabers cutting
the night away, cutting the night away
And always she rides, looking back over her shoulders
Her shoulders, so haughty, so high born
As if to say, Catch me if you can
Oh man, oh man
And if You follow, the sky will swallow
And I will leave you my love
In the willows by the Mountain
The big Blue Mountain with the white-silver cone
And you will wait
And you will wait
Till it will open