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Ed Bruce
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Her Sweet Love And The Baby
Soft rain kissing the fallen leaves
Night wind harmonizing with whispering trees
Of pretty sounds I've heard the sweetest I think, maybe
Is when she sings to the baby
I look around at riches by which some men measure
But all their wealth, I see, can never match my treasures
The stillness of the dawn by a mountain stream
A bird and his mate dancing through the night on pale moon beams
Of pretty things I've seen the sweetest I think, maybe
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Is when she's holding the baby
I look around at riches by which some men measure
But all their wealth, I see, can never match my treasures
Of fortunes I have seen, the riches I think, maybe
Of her sweet love and the baby
Her sweet love and the baby
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