I Blog Poetry and Prose

All day I've faced the barren waste
With out the taste of water... cool, water.
Ole Dan and I, with throats burned dry,
and souls that cry
for water... cool, clear water.

The nights are cool and I'm a fool.
Each star's a pool of water... cool, clear water.
And with the dawn I'll wake and yawn
and carry on
to water... cool, clear water.

The shadows sway and seem to say
Tonight we pray for water.... cool, clear water
And way up there He'll hear our prayer
and show us where
there's water... cool, clear water.

Keep a-movin' Dan. Don't you listen to him Dan.
He's the devil, not a man.
He spreads the burnin' sand with water.
Say Dan can't you see that big green tree,
where the water's runnin' free.
It's waiting there for you and me
and water.... cool, clear water.

Dan's feet are sore he's yearnin' for
Just one thing more than water.... cool, clear water.
Like me I guess he'd like to rest
where there's no quest
for water... cool, clear water.