A matter of discipline

One evening as I traveled, the moon fell from the sky.
Her skin was like a salmon's, and tears came from her eyes
I asked her why she wept alone, and this is what she said:
'It's my blood that makes the light at night, that shines down on your heads.
It's my arms,' she said, 'that hold the stars aloft in Heaven's blue.
It's my voice,' she said, 'that makes your sailor's voyage straight and true.'
I asked her what help I could be, she touched my heart so dear.
'Just look up each moonlit night, and remember I was here.

Just look up each moonlit night, and remember I was here.'