I wandered by a brookside

I wandered by a brookside, I wandered by a mill.
I could not hear the water, the murmuring, it was still.
Not a sound of any grasshopper nor the chirp of any bird,
but the beating of my own heart was the only sound I heard.
The beating of my own heart was the only sound I heard.

Then silent tears fast flowing when someone stood beside,
a hand upon my shoulder, I knew the touch was kind.
He drew me near and nearer, we neither spoke one word,
but the beating of our own two hearts was the only sound I heard.
The beating of our own two hearts was the only sound I heard.

© Eva Cassidy