Hush, my love. Don’t make a sound.
You’ll miss the moon and stars trying to steal the ground,
that holds the ice and snow that falls to earth,
a hobo’s blanket he can’t make work.
His hands are red. His nose just runs.
He knows the nature of men with guns,
because the world is cold, I confess.
Sadness persecutes happiness.
I want to sing you a happy lullaby.
I want to tell you the ones you love won’t die.
But I have to lie to you so you will go to sleep
…don’t weep.
So hush, my love, and close your eyes.
Say your prayers and then say goodbye.
Yes, hush, my child. Close your eyes.
Say your little prayer then say goodbye.
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