The mocking bird repeats,
All the words that you've said,
From today and before,
But now it's time for bed.
So please shut your eyes,
And lie down your head,
Where dreams of good things,
Will dance around instead.
God is watching over you,
And with hands turning red,
Heals all your wounds,
From which you have bled.
So please little child,
Let your soul be led,
Into the bountiful light,
Where the happy are dead.
