Brave The Brook
Take me down to my old parents, show me round the trees,
Guide me through that greying stream, to where my home may be,
Oh, how I wish, that I could see,
Maybe then I could tell you the colours in my mind.
The ripples I feel beneath my toes,
Remind me often of his death roes,
Oh, how I wish, that I couldn’t feel,
Maybe then I wouldn’t have these colours in my brain.
My brother young and gentle,
Slipped in to a sea,
But dear old Brook, shy old Brook,
He took to try and save.
He brought him back in one great wave!
And so we named him Brave.
Pebbles rise, some cry out, all of it in vain,
They don’t see, Brook is gone, all that’s left is pain,
Oh, how I wish, that I could bring him here,
Maybe then we could swim the way we used to do.
Dear old Brook, shy old Brook,
He left his home that day,
Have up his life in one great way,
Now we call him Brave.