"Waters of March"

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Waters of March Words & Music by Antonio Carlos Jobim
Recorded by Susannah McCorkell, 1993

A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road;

It's feeling alone, it's the weight of your load;

It's a sliver of glass, it's life, it's the sun;

It's night, it's death, it's a knife, it's a gun;

A flower that blooms, a fox in the brush;

A knot in the wood, the song of a thrush;
A myst'ry of life, the steps in the hall;

The sound of the wind, and the waterfall.

It's the moon floating free, it's the curve of the slope;

It's an ant, it's a bee, it's a reason for hope;

And the river bank sings of the waters of March;

It's the promise of spring, it's the joy in your heart.



A spear, a spike, a stake, a nail;

It's a drip, it's a drop, it's the end of the tale;

The dew on the leaf in the morning light,

The shot of a gun in the dead of the night;

A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,

It's the will to survive, it's a jolt, it's a jump;
Blue print of a house, a body in bed;
Car stuck in the mud, it's the mud, it's the mud;

A fish, a flash, a wish, a wing;

It's a hawk, it's a dove, it's the promise of spring;


And the river bank sings of the waters of March;

It's the promise of spring, it's the joy in your heart.


A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road;

The stump of a tree, it's a frog, it's a toad;

A sigh, a breath, a walk, a run;

A life, a death, the rain, the sun;

And the river bank sings of the waters of March;

It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart.