No one on the pavements,
No one in the streets,
Guess they’ve all gone home,
To rest their weary feet.
Quietness wherever I roam,
Even in the park I know,
And yet a stillness such a calm,
In the radiant sweet night balm.
By the river smoothly running,
A little mouse extremely cunning,
Then as I look around,
I see a dead bird on the ground.
Then I ponder on myself,
Will I left upon the shelf,
Sitting quietly on the bench a squirrel comes quite near,
A movement from my feet gives him an anxious fear.
Maybe one day I will find a man,
Who’ll send my senses wild,
And then I’ll have his child,
All these thoughts are in silence.