In the hour of not quite rain
When the fog was fingertip high
The moon hung suspended
In a singular sky

Deeply and beyond seeing
Not wishing to intrude
Bathed in it's own reflection
The water mirrored the moon

The tumbling birds have now sobered
From the leaves of their nursery
Like shadowy, quiet children
Watching sleepily
Correct  |  Mail  |  Print  |  Vote

Hour Of Not Quite Rain Lyrics

Buffalo Springfield – Hour Of Not Quite Rain Lyrics