Soft rain kissing the fallen leaves night wind harmonizing with whispering trees
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Of pretty sounds I've heard the sweetest I think maybe
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Is when she sings to the baby
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I look around at riches by which some men measure
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But all their wealth I see can never match my treasures
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The stillness of the dawn by a mountain stream
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A bird and his mate dancing through the night on pale moon beams
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Of pretty things I've seen the sweetest I think maybe
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Is when she's holding the baby
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I look around at riches by which some men measure
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But all their wealth I see can never match my treasures
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Of fortunes I have seen the riches I think maybe
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Of her sweet love and the baby
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Her sweet love and the baby
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Her Sweet Love And The Baby
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| Ed Bruce |
