Thursday, May 28, 2009

The sun is so red mom, and the forest is so black.
Now the sun is dead mom, and the day has past away.
The fox goes around out there; we’re locking up the hall.
Come sit by my pillow mom, and sing me a little song.

Why does the night come, with cold and bitter wind?
Hear the little cat mom, it miaus and wants to come in.
The seagull and tern has nowhere to live.
Come hear, now sing the stars a lullaby for me.

The sky is so big mom, with stars shining bright.
Who do think lives, mom, on the star that shines tonight?
Do you thing that there are boys, mom, who looks down on me?
And do you think that they have beds, mom, and sleeps just like me?

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