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Terry Grosvenor
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Zoon, Zoon, Cuddle and Croon
Zoon, zoon, cuddle and croon Over the crinkling sea, The moon man flings him a silvered net Fashioned of moonbeams three
And some folk say, when the net lies long And the midnight hour is ripe The moon man fishes for some old song That fell from a sailor's pipe
And some folk say that he fishes the bars Down where the dead ships lie Looking for lost little baby stars That slid form the slippery sky
And the waves roll out, and the waves roll in And the nodding night wind blows But why the moon man fishes the sea Only the moon man knows
Zoon, zoon, net of the moon Rides on the wrinkling sea Bright is the fret and shining wet Fashioned of moonbeams three
And some folk say, when the great net gleams And the waves are dusky blue The moon man fishes for two little dreams He lost when the world was new
And some folk say, in the late night hours While the long fin-shadows slide Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com The moon man fishes for cold sea flowers Under the tumbling tide
And the waves roll out, and the waves roll in And the grey gulls dip and doze But why the moon man fishes the sea Only the moon man knows
Zoon, zoon, cuddle and croon Over the crinkling sea The moon man flings him a silvered net Fashioned of moon beams three
And some folk say that he follows the flecks Down where the last light flows Fishing for two round gold-rimmed specs That blew from his button-like nose
And some folk say, while the salt sea foams And the silver net lines snare The moon man fishes for cavern combs That float from the mermaids' hair
And the waves roll out, and the waves roll in, And the nodding night wind blows, But why the moon man fishes the sea Only the moon man knows
Based on a poem by Mildred Plew Meigs
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