Voice Level I

Dark Brown the River, golden the sand, it flows along forever, with trees on either hand.

Green leaves a floating, castles of foam.  Boats of mine a boating, where will all come home?

And where go the boats, down the river so brown, green leaves a floating, where will all come home?

On goes the river, out past the mill, a way down the valley a way down the hill.

A way down the river, a hundred miles or more. All the little children shall bring my boat ashore.

And where go the boats, down the river so brown, green leaves a floating where will all come home.

Green leaves a floating, where will all come home.