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Fine |
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Won't you play the music so the cradle can rock, |
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to a lullaby in ragtime. |
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Sleepy hands are creeping to the end of the clock, |
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play a lullaby in ragtime. |
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You can tell the sandman is on his way, |
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by the way, |
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that they play, |
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As still, as the trill, of a thrush, in a twilight high. |
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So you can hear the:- |
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Rhythm of the ripples on the side of the boat, |
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as you sail away to dreamland. |
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High above the moon you hear a silvery note, |
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as the sandman takes your hand. |
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So rock-a-by my baby, |
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don't you cry my baby, |
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sleepy-time is nigh. |
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Won't you rock me to a ragtime lullaby, |
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So rock-a-by my baby, |
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don't you cry my baby, |
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sleepy-time is nigh. |
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Won't you rock me to a ragtime lullaby, |
