Small Hours
In small hours, I sit by the most beautiful little baby. She whimpers and flails her arms and I pat her and tell her 'there, there' and her grey eyes close again and she drifts away to unseen dreams. This is your home now.
Well you're very very lovely, gonna take you home- Robert, but via John Martyn (1948 – 2009)
They say you'll be my ruin
But I just don't care 'cos I love you so
I just love you so
