Ripple

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine and my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,

would you hear my voice come through the music?

you hold it near as it were your own it's a hand-me-down the thoughts are

broken perhaps they're better left unsung I don't know don't really care

Let there be songs to fill the air, ripple in still water.

When there is no pebble tossed, nor wind to blow,

reach out your hand.

If your cup be empty, if your cup is full,

may it be again, let it be known.

There is a fountain that was not made by the hands of men.

There is a road, no simple highway,

between the dawn and the dark of night.

And if you go, no one may follow.

That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water when there is no pebble tossed,

nor wind to blow.

If you should choose to lead, must follow.

But if you fall, you fall alone.

If you should stand, then who's to guide you?

If I knew the way, I would take you home, la-da-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da

Da, da, da, da

Da, da, da, da, da