Mrs. Nordstrom:
The sun sits low
And the vespers ring,

Mr. Erlansen:
And the shadows grow
And the crickets sing,
And it's--

Mrs. Nordstrom:
Look! Is that the moon?

Mr. Erlansen:
Yes.
What a lovely afternoon!

Mrs. Nordstrom:
Yes.

Mr. Erlansen:
The evening air
Doesn't feel quite right...

Mrs. Nordstrom:
In the not-quite glare
Of the not-quite night,
And it's--
Wait! Is that a star?

Mr. Erlansen:
No.
Just the glow of a cigar.

Mrs. Nordstrom:
Oh.

Mr. Lindquist:
The atmosphere's becoming heady,
The ambiance thrilling.

Mrs. Segstrom:
The spirits unsteady,
The flesh far from willing.

Mr. Lindquist:
To be perpetually ready
Is far from fulfilling.

Mrs. Segstrom:
But wait! The sun is dipping.

Mr. Lindquist:
Where?--you're right! It's dropping.
Look! At last it's slipping.

Mrs. Segstrom:
Sorry, my mistake, it's stopping.

Quintet:
The light is pink
And the air is still
And the sun is slink-
Ing behind the hill.
And when finally it sets,
As finally it must,
When finally it lets
The moon and stars adjust,
When finally we greet the dark
And we're breathing amen,

Mrs. Anderssen:
Surprise of surprises,
It instantly rises
Again.