Chinese White

The bent twig of darkness Grows the petals of the morning; It shows to them the birds singing just behind the dawning. Come dip into the cloud cream lapping; I can't keep my hand on the plough Because it's dying. But I will lay me down with my arms round a rainbow, And I will lay me down to dream. Oh, will your magic Christmas tree be shining Gently all around? Climbing up these figures The sun is tugging at my shoulder. And, every step I take, I think my feet are getting older. I see the crystal dreams unfolding, I can't keep my eyes on the book because it's mouldring. But I will lay me down with my arms round a rainbow, And I will lay me down to dream. Oh, will your magic Christmas tree be shining Gently all around?