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The Hour of Not Quite Rain Songtext
von Buffalo Springfield

The Hour of Not Quite Rain Songtext

In the hour of not quite rain
When the fog was fingertip high
The moon hung suspended
In a singular sky


Deeply and beyond, seeing
Not wishing to intrude
Bathed in its own reflection
The water mirrored the moon

The tumbling birds have now sobered
From the leaves of their nursery
Like shadowy, quiet children
Watching sleepily

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