Lyrics Songs of Innocence - Jah Wobble
Songs
of
innocence.
Piping
down
the
valleys
wild.
Piping
songs
of
pleasant
glee.
On
a
cloud
I
saw
a
child.
And
he
laughing
said
to
me.
Pipe
a
song
about
a
lamb.
So
I
piped
with
merry
cheer.
Piper
pipe
that
song
again.
So
I
piped,
he
wept
to
hear.
Drop
thy
pipe,
thy
happy
pipe.
Sing
thy
songs
of
happy
cheer.
So
I
sung
the
same
again.
While
he
wept
with
joy
to
hear.
Piper
sit
thee
down
and
write.
In
a
book
that
all
may
read.
So
he
vanished
from
my
sight.
And
I
plucked
a
hollow
reed.
And
I
made
a
rural
pen.
And
I
stained
the
water
clear.
And
I
wrote
my
happy
songs.
Every
child
may
joy
to
hear.
The
sun
does
arise.
And
make
happy
the
skies.
The
merry
bells
ring.
To
welcome
the
spring.
The
skylark
and
thrush.
The
birds
of
the
bush.
Sing
louder
around.
To
the
bells
cheerful
sound.
While
our
sports
shall
be
seen.
On
the
echoing
green.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Father,
father,
where
are
you
going.
Oh
do
not
walk
so
fast.
Speak
father,
speak
to
your
little
boy.
Or
else
I
shall
be
lost.
The
night
was
dark,
no
father
was
there.
The
child
was
wet
with
dew.
The
mire
was
deep,
and
the
child
did
weep.
And
away
the
vapor
flew.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
The
little
boy
lost
in
the
lonely
fen.
Led
by
the
wandering
light,
began
to
cry.
But
god
ever
nigh,
appeared
like
his
father
in
white.
He
kissed
the
child
and
by
the
hand
led.
And
to
his
mother
brought.
Who
in
sorry
pale,
through
the
lonely
dale.
The
little
boy
weeping
sought.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Sweet
babe
in
thy
face.
Holy
image
I
can
trace.
Sweet
babe
once
like
me.
Thy
maker
lay
and
wept
for
me.
Wept
for
me,
for
thee,
for
all.
When
he
was
an
infant
small.
There
his
image
ever
see.
Heavenly
face
that
smiles
on
thee.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
Songs
of
innocence.
A
little
black
thing
among
the
snow.
Crying
weep
weep,
with
notes
of
woe.
Where
is
thy
father
and
mother
say.
The
are
both
gone
up
to
the
church
to
pray.
Because
I
was
happy
upon
the
heath.
And
smiled
among
the
winter
snow.
The
clothed
me
in
the
clothes
of
death.
And
taught
me
to
sing
the
notes
of
woe.
And
because
I
am
happy.
And
dance
and
sing.
They
think
they
have
done
me
no
injury.
And
have
gone
to
praise
god
And
his
priest
and
king.
Who
make
up
a
heaven
of
our
misery.
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