by Bob Hunter                                                                                                     The Grateful Dead, Chris Hillman   

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If my words did glow - with the gold of sunshine


And my tunes were played on the heart of a strung.


Would you hear my voice - come through the music

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Would you hold it near - as it were your own.


It's a hand me down - the thoughts are broken


Perhaps - they're better - left unsung.


I don't know - don't really care

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Let there be songs - to fill the air.

Am                   D

Ripples in still water

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When there is no pebble tossed - no wind to blow

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Reach out your hand - if your cup is empty


If your cup - is full may it be again


Let it be known - there is a fountain.

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That was not made - by the hands of a man.

There is a road - no simple highway

Between the dawn - and the dark of night

And if you go - no one may follow

That path is for - your steps alone.

Ripples ....

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