Bm E Bm EBm A Bm In the hour of not quite rainG D When the fog was finger tip highBm E Bm E Bm E D The moon hung suspended in a singular skyBm E Bm E Bm G C F /E /DF#m Bm Deeply and beyond seeing,F#m Bm Not wishing to intrudeE F#m Bm Bathed in its own reflectionA Bm E Bm E The water mirrored the moon The tumbling birds have now sobered From the leaves of their nursery Like shadowy, quiet children watching sleeply
Hour Of Not Quite Rain
The Buffalo Springfield
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Tom: