Lyrics Page |
The Hour of Not Quite Rain (Callen, Furay) 1. In the hour of not quite rain When the fog was finger tip high The moon hung suspended in a singular sky - Deeply and beyond seeing, not wishing to intrude Bathed in its own reflection The water mirrored the moon 2. The tumbling birds have now sobered From the leaves of their nursery Like shadowy, quiet children watching sleeply |
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