A stick, a stone
It's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump
It's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass
It is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death
It's a gun
The foot, the ground
The flesh and the bone
The beat of the road
A slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash
A silvery glow
A fight, a bet
The range of a bow
The wood of the wind
The steps in the hall
A scratch, a lump
It is nothing at all
A spear, a spike
A point, a nail
A drip, a drop
It's the end of the tale
A truckload of bricks
In the soft morning light
A shot of a gun
In the dead of the night
A mile, a must
A thrust, a bump
It's a girl, it's a rhyme
It's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house
The body in bed
It's the car that got stuck
It's the mud, it's the mud
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March
It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart
Afloat, adrift
A flight, a wing
A hawk, a quail
The promise of spring
The bed of the well
The end of the line
The dismay in your face
It's a loss, it's a find
A snake, a stick
It is John, it is Joe
It's a thorn in your hand
And a cut in your toe
Well the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March
It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart
A point, a grain
A bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard
A sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle
A sting, a pain
A snail, a riddle
A wasp, a stain
A stick, a stone
The end of the load
The rest of a stump
A lonesome road
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March
It's the end of despair
It's the joy in your heart
It's the joy in your heart
It's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground
A stick, a stone
It's a hunch, it's a hope
