LITTLE RIVER

Words by Ruth Moore

Tune by Gordon Bok



Little River, lighted whistle, cry no more

Sleepy sound from the breakers calling me back to shore



Whistle it soft to the silver river

Whistle loud to the drumming sea

Whistle it low to the moon and the morning

Not to me, never to me



For I'm swinging high in another country, swinging low

Playing it easy, the dolphins follow me where I go



Whistle it loud to the floodtide making

Whistle it soft to the wheeling sun

Whistle it wild to my girl's heart breaking

She'll remember, she was the one



Spring comes warm to Little River, storm comes black

I was headed home when the Indian Giver took me back



Whistle it high to the grey-beard breakers

Where the secret over the great shoals ran

Whistle the world that was in my pocket

When I had pockets, when I was a man



Copyright Folk-Legacy Records, Inc. 1977

@death @sailor

recorded by Gordon Bok

filename[ LITRIVER

SF

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