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
The fox in the brush
The knot in the wood
The song of the thrush
The wood of the wind
A 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 the promise of spring
And the riverbank talks of the waters of March

It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart

A sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle, a sting
A riddle, a wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains
A horse and a mule
In the distance the shelves
Rode 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 a stump
A lonesome road
A sliver of glass
A light, the sun
A night, a 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