A river without a name

Along to a river without a name,
I was walking,
on the wet grass.
And the pound was shining to the starlight,
there was no refuge available in sight.

And I sat on the grass,
and dreamt of my past,
I was pretty sure that I do know.
Something in this knoll,
I pretty sure I had a stroll,
there, or somewhere near.
A river without a name,
without a word,
that somehow is showing what I feel.

Along the river,
through the rocks.
Stars are taking bath at the night,
getting a bath to shine once again,
in the magical life.
Along the river,
through the rocks.
Stars are taking bath at the night,
getting a bath to shine once again,
in the magical life.

Along the river,
through the rocks.
Stars are taking bath at the night,
getting a bath to shine once again,
in the magical life.