I once heard a sparrow’s song,
“Tis me, your soul, in Spring,”
To which I replied “hello my dear,
I never did learn how to sing.”
I walked a little further til,
A flower called out in bloom,
“Won’t you come and rest here awhile,
And share a song Under the Moon?”
A man so full of wistful thoughts,
Who’s seen this life’s sunsets,
Knows the path his heart and mind must take,
From all his life’s regrets.
In the end the sparrow always leaves,
The rose, it wilts and dies,
But the man who’s learned to love again,
Forgets to say goodbye.
One day will come that final dusk,
For some it comes too soon,
But the lucky one, he got to sit,
With you Under the Moon.