Rest Well

 

On any clear and crisp night in Texas,

A million brilliant stars fill the sky.

And if you keep eyes still and wide open,

You can glimpse the falling ones as they streak by.

And I always try to make a wish upon them,

But now there's one more thing that I know I will do:

I'll wish for the dream that I am hoping,

And make a wish for falling starlights too.

 

Rest well, Rest well, Rest well...

Falling Star.

 

Texas stars don't fall in broad daylight.

And their trails never scar the morning blue.

And we never watch their trail, over and over,

Played back, time again, in living rooms.

But then, it's rare that seven stars all fall together,

And we cover up our mouth to hide the pain.

For when that trail tore into our Texas morning,

We knew we'd never see that falling star again.

 

Rest well, Rest well, Rest well...

Falling Star.

 

Now we search for clues and truths, out in the pastures,

And in Piney woods, of secrets never found.

But the answers that we're seeking may not find us,

If we only look for answers on the ground.

For a shooting star may only lasts a moment,

And leave us searching the vast blue for reasons why,

Or perhaps it really flies out there, forever...

Inside some never-ending Texas sky.

 

Rest well, Rest well, Rest well...

Falling Star.

 

Copyright, Eric Folkerth ©2003. All Rights Reserved.