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If you sing/use this song, please contact the composer and say thank you to Sheryl Martineau!
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More about Sheryl Martineau:
My family and indeed, the entire large posterity of my parents' family, almost all of whom are singers and instrumentalists, have my mother, Ruth Green, to thank for the music that has enriched our lives and our service for the last 60-odd years. I do not forget the sacrifice of my father in providing lessons for his five daughters. Mama sent us to our performances saying, "Do pretty," and then attended every one of them. They laid the foundation of the tradition of training and performance that has come down in each one of our families. I am most grateful.
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If you sing/use this song, please contact the composer and say thank you to Sheryl Martineau!
See more from Sheryl Martineau.
No user ratings for this song yet. Leave yours by clicking the button above!
More about Sheryl Martineau:
My family and indeed, the entire large posterity of my parents' family, almost all of whom are singers and instrumentalists, have my mother, Ruth Green, to thank for the music that has enriched our lives and our service for the last 60-odd years. I do not forget the sacrifice of my father in providing lessons for his five daughters. Mama sent us to our performances saying, "Do pretty," and then attended every one of them. They laid the foundation of the tradition of training and performance that has come down in each one of our families. I am most grateful.
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Lyrics: I think sleep is an angel, white wings outspread,
Singing to the birds and flowers to make them nod their heads.
I think her steps are breezes blowing through the wood;
Children can hear the sweet, sweet song if they listen
And if they are good.
I think little violets are pieces of blue
Fallen when the angels cut holes for stars to shine through.
I think the moon is a golden boat with dreams in a shining heap,
Tipping on clouds and spilling out into the children's sleep.
I think sleep is an angel, white wings outspread,
Singing to the flowers to make them nod their heads.
I think her steps are breezes blowing through the woods.
Children can hear the sweet song if they listen
When they go to bed.
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