When that fat old sun in the sky is falling
Summer evening birds are calling
Summer sunday and a year
The sound of music in my ears
Distant bells, new mown grass smells so sweet
By the river hodling hands
Roll me up and lay me down
And if you see, don't make a sound
Pick your feet up off the ground
And if you hear as the warm night falls
A silver sound from a tongue so strange
Sing to me, sing to me...
When that fat old sun in the sky is falling
Summer evening birds are calling
Children's laughter in my ears
The last sunlight disappears
And if you see, don't make a sound
Pick your feet up off the ground
And if you hear as the warm night falls
A silver sound from a tongue so strange
Sing to me, sing to me...
Writer(s): David Jon Gilmour
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