The Waters of March - Susannah McCorkle

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The Waters of March Lyrics

A stick a stone
it's the end of the road,

it's the rest of the stump
it's a little alone

it's a sliver of glass,
it is life, it's the sun,

it is night ,it is death,
it's a trap, it's a gun.

the oak when it blooms,
a fox in the brush,

the knot in the wood,
the song of the thrush.

the wood of the wind,
a cliff, a fall,


a scratch, a lump,
it is nothing at all.

it's the wind blowing free.
it's the end of a slope.

it's a beam, it's a void,
it's a hunch, it's a hope.

and the riverbank talks.
of the water of march

it's the end of the strain,
it's the joy in your heart.

the foot, the ground,
the flesh, the bone,

the beat of the road,
a slingshot stone.

a fish, a flash,
a silvery glow,


a fight, a bet,
the range of the bow.

the bed of the well,
the end of the line,

the dismay in the face,
it's a loss, it's a find.

a spear, a spike,
a point, a nail,

a drip, a drop,
the end of the tale.

a truckload of bricks,
in the soft morning light,

the shot of a gun,
in the dead of the night.

a mile, a must,
a thrust, a bump.

it's a girl, it's a rhyme.
it's the cold, it's the mumps.

the plan of the house,
the body in bed,

the car that got stuck,
it's the mud, it's the mud.

a float, a drift,
a flight, a wing,

ahawk, a quail,
the promise of spring.

and the riverbanks talks.
of the waters of march.

it's the promise of life,
it's the joy in your heart,

a snake, a stick,
it is john, it is joe,

it's a thorn in your hand,
and a cut on your toe.

a point, a grain,
a bee, a bite,

a blink, a buzzard,
the sudden stroke of night.

a pin, a needle,
a sting, a pain,

a snail, a riddle,
a weep, a stain.

a pass in the mountains.
a horse, a mule,

in the distance the shelves.
rode three shadows of blue.

and the riverbank talks
of the promise of life
in your heart, in your heart

a stick, a stone,
the end of the load,

the rest of the stump,
a lonesome road.

a sliver of glass,
a life, the sun,

a night, a death,
the end of the run

and the riverbank talks
of the waters of march

it's the end of all strain
it's the joy in your heart

Lyrics provided by LyricsEver.com
Susannah McCorkle (4 January 1946 – 19 May 2001) was an American jazz singer much admired for her direct, unadorned singing style and quiet intensity.

McCorkle was born in Berkeley, California. She studied modern languages at the University of California, Berkeley. McCorkle began singing professionally after hearing recordings of Billie Holiday in Paris in the late 1960s. She nearly became an interpreter at the European Commission in Brussels, but moved instead to London in 1972 to pursue a career in singing. While in the UK, she made two albums which, although well received, enjoyed only limited circulation.

In the late 1970s, McCorkle returned to the United States and settled in New York City, where a five-month engagement at the Cookery in Greenwich Village brought her to wider public attention and elicited rave reviews from critics.

During the 1980s, McCorkle continued to record; her maturing style and the darkening timbre of her voice greatly enhanced her performances. In the early 1990s, two of the albums McCorkle made for Concord Records, No More Blues and Sábia, were enormously successful and made her name known to the wider world. She was recorded by the Smithsonian Institution which at the time made her the youngest singer ever to have been included in its popular music series. McCorkle played Lincoln Center's Avery Fisher and Alice Tully Halls five times and Carnegie Hall three times, and was featured soloist with Skitch Henderson and the 80-piece New York Pops in a concert of Brazilian music.

Thanks to her linguistic skills, McCorkle translated lyrics of Brazilian, French, and Italian songs, notably those for her Brazilian album Sabia. McCorkle also had several short stories published and, in 1991, began work on her first novel. She published fiction in Mademoiselle, Cosmopolitan Magazine, and non-fiction in the New York Times Magazine and in American Heritage, including lengthy articles on Ethel Waters, Bessie Smith, Irving Berlin and Mae West.

McCorkle suffered for many years from depression and cancer, and took her own life at age 55 by leaping off the balcony of her highrise Manhattan apartment. She was alone in her home at the time. The police immediately entered her home after identifying her body and found no foul play. Suicide was ruled the cause of death. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.

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Susannah McCorkle