Waters of March

Eliane Elias

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    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, 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 river bank talks of the waters of March
    It's the end of the strain
    The joy in your heart
    The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
    The beat of the road, a slingshot's stone
    A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
    A fight, a bet the fange 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
    The sound of a shot in the dead of the night
    A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,
    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 river bank talks of the waters of March
    It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart
    A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
    It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
    A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
    It's a thorn in your hand and a cut in your toe
    A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
    A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
    A pin, a needle, a sting a pain
    A snail, 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 river talks of the waters of March
    It's the promise of life in your heart
    A stick, a stone, the end of the road
    The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
    A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
    A knife, a death, the end of the run
    And the river bank talks of the waters of March
    It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart

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    Información de la canción

    Composición: Antonio Carlos Jobim

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