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Wailin' Jennys. Bright Morning Stars. Away But Never Gone. Zeneszám

The moon's on its way to its nightly shift, the frogs fill the creek below.
The tall grass waves a farewell to the day, the wind moans sweet and low.
A heron tucks his head in his wing, the fish in the lake float along.
The sun sinks from sight: away, but never gone.

The dawn brings the dew like a thousand jewels, a nest rustles high on a bough.
The blue egg stays warm in the cool of the morn, under a red breast of down.
The clouds turn and stretch, the moon checks its wrist and gathers itself with a yawn,
And winks to the sun: away, but never gone.


*Whistling and humming*

All o'er the world, as it turns and it turns, the stars twinkle off and dawn,
And we come and go: away, but never gone.