Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
What separates water from sky anymore?
The world is always quiet here.
Go find your moonlit face in the mirror.
Sit down on that generous white-sand shore.
Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
You won’t find such peace but this time of the year.
An unplucked harp string wound tight to the core.
The world is always quiet here.
No ripples are born, though you’re sitting so near.
Not one wayward boat, no paddle, no oar.
Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
You could stand, walk out on water. You fear
the hubris of joy. Riches make you poor.
The world is always quiet here.
It’s a secret to everyone, far and near,
the opposite end of the earth’s cellar door.
Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
The world is always quiet here.
What separates water from sky anymore?
The world is always quiet here.
Go find your moonlit face in the mirror.
Sit down on that generous white-sand shore.
Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
You won’t find such peace but this time of the year.
An unplucked harp string wound tight to the core.
The world is always quiet here.
No ripples are born, though you’re sitting so near.
Not one wayward boat, no paddle, no oar.
Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
You could stand, walk out on water. You fear
the hubris of joy. Riches make you poor.
The world is always quiet here.
It’s a secret to everyone, far and near,
the opposite end of the earth’s cellar door.
Still waters run deep, vibrant and clear.
The world is always quiet here.