2 Under the Bridge
A Play on Words
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Whatever Touches Your Life 1983 By James Richard Langston Listen . . . hear the cricket, In the softness of the night, Stand quietly by a meadow, See the birds taking flight. Hear the whisper of a breeze, Blowing through trees of pine, Let whatever touches your life, Be in tune to touching mine. Touch the velvet of a rose, On an early summer's day, Smell the sweet aroma, Of a field of new mown hay. Throw caution to the wild wind, Play it loose just one time, Let whatever touches your life, Be in tune to touching mine. Blink your eyes at the sun, As it sets behind the hill, Skip a rock across t...
Whatever Touches Your Life 1983 By James Richard Langston Listen . . . hear the cricket, In the softness of the night, Stand quietly by a meadow, See the birds taking flight. Hear the whisper of a breeze, Blowing through trees of pine, Let whatever touches your life, Be in tune to touching mine. Touch the velvet of a rose, On an early summer's day, Smell the sweet aroma, Of a field of new mown hay. Throw caution to the wild wind, Play it loose just one time, Let whatever touches your life, Be in tune to touching mine. Blink your eyes at the sun, As it sets behind the hill, Skip a rock across the pond, By the old rustic mill. Cheer your team on to victory, As it comes from behind. Let whatever touches your life, Be in tune to touching mine. Taste a frosty snowflake, As it falls upon your tongue, See a mother hen fret, As she hovers o'er her young. Stay in tune with mother nature, Give her reason, give her rhyme, Let whatever touches your life, Be in tune to touching mine.
