sergio mendes&jane monheit-waters of march
A stick, a stone It's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump It's a little alone.
It's a sliver of glass It is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death It's a trap, it's a gun.
The oak when it blooms, A fox in the brush
A knot in the wood The song of a thrush
The wood of the wind The cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump It is nothing at all.
It's the wind blowing free It's the end of the slope
It's a beam, it's a void It's a hunch, it's a hope
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March;
It's the end of the strain It's the joy in your heart.
The foot, the ground The flesh and the bone
The beat of the road A slingshot stone
A fish, a flash A silvery glow.
A fight, a bet The range of a bow.
The bed of the well, The end of the line,
The dismay in the face. It's a loss, it's a find.
A spear, a spike A point, a nail,
A drip, a drop The end of the tale.
A truckload of bricks In the soft morning light,
It's the shot of the gun In the dead of the night.
A mile, a must A thrust, a b**p
It's a girl, it's a rhyme It's a cold, it's the mumps.
The plan of the house. The body in bed.
And the car that got stuck. It's the mud, it's the mud.
A float, a drift A flight, a wing
A hawk, a quail The promise of spring
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March
It's the joy in your heart It's the joy in your heart.
A snake, a stick It is John, it is Joe
It's a thorn in your hand Or a cut on your toe,
A point, a grain A bee, a b***
A blink, a buzzard A sudden stroke of night.
A pin, a needle A sting, a pain
A snail, a wasp A riddle, a stain.
A pass in the moutains A horse and a mule,
In the distance the shelves Grow three shadows of blue.
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March
It's the promise of life In your heart, in your heart.
A stick, a stone, The end of the load,
The rest of the stump, A lonesome road.
A sliver of glass, A life, the sun,
A night, the death, The end of the run.
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March,
It's the end of all strain, It's the joy in your heart.
It's the joy in your heart. It's the joy in your heart.
It's the joy in your heart.
cpo
A stick, a stone It's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump It's a little alone.
It's a sliver of glass It is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death It's a trap, it's a gun.
The oak when it blooms, A fox in the brush
A knot in the wood The song of a thrush
The wood of the wind The cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump It is nothing at all.
It's the wind blowing free It's the end of the slope
It's a beam, it's a void It's a hunch, it's a hope
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March;
It's the end of the strain It's the joy in your heart.
The foot, the ground The flesh and the bone
The beat of the road A slingshot stone
A fish, a flash A silvery glow.
A fight, a bet The range of a bow.
The bed of the well, The end of the line,
The dismay in the face. It's a loss, it's a find.
A spear, a spike A point, a nail,
A drip, a drop The end of the tale.
A truckload of bricks In the soft morning light,
It's the shot of the gun In the dead of the night.
A mile, a must A thrust, a b**p
It's a girl, it's a rhyme It's a cold, it's the mumps.
The plan of the house. The body in bed.
And the car that got stuck. It's the mud, it's the mud.
A float, a drift A flight, a wing
A hawk, a quail The promise of spring
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March
It's the joy in your heart It's the joy in your heart.
A snake, a stick It is John, it is Joe
It's a thorn in your hand Or a cut on your toe,
A point, a grain A bee, a b***
A blink, a buzzard A sudden stroke of night.
A pin, a needle A sting, a pain
A snail, a wasp A riddle, a stain.
A pass in the moutains A horse and a mule,
In the distance the shelves Grow three shadows of blue.
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March
It's the promise of life In your heart, in your heart.
A stick, a stone, The end of the load,
The rest of the stump, A lonesome road.
A sliver of glass, A life, the sun,
A night, the death, The end of the run.
And the riverbank talks Of the waters of March,
It's the end of all strain, It's the joy in your heart.
It's the joy in your heart. It's the joy in your heart.
It's the joy in your heart.
cpo