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