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| Lyric Credits: |
Dan Gribbin |
| Music Credits: |
Dan Gribbin |
| Producer Credits: |
Dan Gribbin |
| Publisher Credits: |
Dan Gribbin |
| Performance Credits: |
Dan Gribbin |
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| Song Length |
3:33 |
| Primary Genre |
Folk-General |
| Tempo / Feel |
- |
| Tempo / Feel |
Medium Slow (91 - 110) |
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LOST EDEN
In my dreams of lost Eden, old Florida memories,
There’s a sound I hear at daybreak on the breeze.
From a sand dune disappearing ‘neath the tide of man’s debris,
A lone, bewildered willet calls to me.
He wonders if our children will hear a redwing’s song;
If the great blue heron yet will grace our skies.
He knows our precious wetlands have been drained and parceled out.
He wonders if we’ll even wonder why.
In my dreams of lost Eden, old Florida memories,
There’s a sound I hear at midday on the breeze.
From a sand dune disappearing ‘neath the tide of man’s debris,
A lone, bewildered willet calls to me.
He says they clear the land for profit, but their promises ring false.
Money doesn’t grow on trees, they cut them down.
Contaminating lakes and streams with runoff from their greed;
Their cup runneth over, and we drown.
The willet wonders if we notice as they’re bulldozing his nest.
He wonders if we’ll ever hear his cry.
He’s telling of the day to come when wetlands breathe their last
In the grey and killing fog we so deny.
In my dreams of lost Eden, old Florida memories,
There’s a sound I hear at sunset on the breeze.
From a sand dune disappearing ‘neath the tide of man’s debris,
A lone, bewildered willet calls to me.
© 2005 by Daniel V. Gribbin
Dan Gribbin/#E1605-2473/386-760-8226
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