Buffalo Springfield Hour Of Not Quite Rain Lyrics

Hour Of Not Quite Rain Lyrics

In the hour of not quite rain

When the fog was fingertip high

The moon hung suspended

In a singular sky



Deeply and beyond seeing

Not wishing to intrude

Bathed in its own reflection

The water mirrored the moon



The tumbling birds have now sobered

From the leaves of their nursery

Like shadowy, quiet children

Watching sleepily