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I'll Dust My Broom

de Free

One, two, three, four
Birds that are flying
Cross my view of the rising Sun
Leaves that are sighing
In the dew in the rising Sun

She, who lays dreaming
Soft as a rose
I watch her breathing
Silent and close

I touch her lips
And she waits to the morning Sun
My fingertips
Feel her warmth in the days begun
We watch the sky, blue as her eyes
And for a while
We are one

Slowly, slowly, passes time
Slowly, slowly she is mine

Birds that are flying
Cross my view of the rising Sun
Leaves that are sighing
In the dew in the rising Sun

We watch the sky, blue as her eyes
And for a while
We are one

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