By Original Work
Rest %s little baby,
We rest your head on mama's breast,
With morning light coming in our hearts,
And beneath the stars.
Through fields of gold we roam,
Where whispers softly call,
The memory finds a home,
And gentle shines through all.
Let music fill the air,
And light fill our souls,
For time beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So rest your head and sing, friends,
With morning light coming filling each day,
Till songs guide us home again,
And we find our love for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.