Our Little Girl

Time for dreaming,
while your mother sings you lullabies
Till the sandman pays his nighly visit
He will sprinle bits of stardust in your slepy eyes
And take your hand
through slumberland.

Evening is nigh,
Stars twinkle on high,
Purple shadows begin to creep,
Close your eyes
and start counting sheep.

If you're real good,
And pray as you should,
Snow white angels will watch through the night
For our little girl.