The River

The River's a wanderer

A nomad, a tramp

He doesn't choose one place

To set up his camp.

The River's a winder

Through valley and hill
He twists and he turns
He just cannot be still.

The River's a hoarder
And he buries down deep
Those little treasures
That he want to keep.

The River's a baby
He gurgles and hums
And sounds like he's happily
Sucking his thumbs.

The River's a singer
As he dances along
The countryside echoes
The notes of his song

The River's monster
Hungry and vexed
He's gobbled up trees

And he'll swallow you next