A pocket full of rocks
whispers my name to the river,
to the water's edge,
dreamless deep flooding;
How I tire of treading water,
let me rest below these waves,
just sing me one more lullaby
before I close my eyes,
the twilight yet lingers.
Sandra 4/24/03
whispers my name to the river,
to the water's edge,
dreamless deep flooding;
How I tire of treading water,
let me rest below these waves,
just sing me one more lullaby
before I close my eyes,
the twilight yet lingers.
Sandra 4/24/03
