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Touch the last of what is past |
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Moving silent water, feel the first that comes |
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Slow and winding, flowing free |
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Peaceful music in its sound of distant drums |
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Trust the shallow virgin stream |
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Danger wild beware the deeper it becomes |
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Moving highway, twisting byway |
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Can't turn back |
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(Singing in the summer rain) |
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And the rain that's caught in its flow |
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Spreading shining, silver lining |
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Gold on black |
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(Echoes moods of the moon and sun) |
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And the sun that shines from below |
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Makes a soft and easy way |
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Left to choose its path will always be a friend |
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Touch the last of what has past |
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Never idle river drifting to the end |
