Song parody of
Waters of March
by David Campbell
Here's where you get creative! Use our cool song parody creator to make a totally new musical idea and lyrics for the Waters of March song by David Campbell.
Simply click on any word to get rhyming words suggestion to use instead of the original ones. You may also remove or alter entire lines if needed — when you're done save your work and share it with our community — have fun!
A stick, a stone,
It's the end of the road,
It's the rest of a stump,
It's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass,
It is life, it's the sun,
It is night, it is death,
It's a trap, it's a gun
The oak when it blooms,
A fox in the brush,
A knot in the wood,
The song of a thrush
The wood of the wind,
A cliff, a fall,
A scratch, a lump,
It is nothing at all
It's the wind blowing free,
It's the end of the slope,
It's a beam, it's a void,
It's a hunch, it's a hope
And the river bank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of the strain,
It's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground,
The flesh and the bone,
The beat of the road,
A slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash,
A silvery glow,
A fight, a bet,
The range of a bow
The bed of the well,
The end of the line,
The dismay in the face,
It's a loss, it's a find
A spear, a spike,
A point, a nail,
A drip, a drop,
The end of the tale
A truckload of bricks
In the soft morning light,
The shot of a gun
In the dead of the night
A mile, a must,
A thrust, a hump,
It's a girl, it's a rhyme,
It's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house,
The body in bed,
And the car that got stuck,
It's the mud, it's the mud
Afloat, adrift,
A flight, a wing,
A hawk, a quail,
The promise of spring
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of a strain
It's the joy in your heart
A snake, a stick,
It is John, it is Joe,
It's a thorn in your hand
And a cut on your toe
A point, a grain,
A bee, a bite,
A blink, a buzzard,
A sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle,
A sting, a pain,
A snail, a riddle,
A wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains,
A horse and a mule,
In the distance the shelves
Rode three shadows of blue
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of a strain
It's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground,
The flesh and the bone,
The beat of the road,
A slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash,
A silvery glow,
A fight, a bet,
The range of a bow
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of a strain
It's the joy in your heart
A stick, a stone,
It's the end of the road,
The rest of a stump,
Its a little bit long
It's the joy in your heart.
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of all strain,
It's the joy in your heart.
A stick, a stone
A stick, a stone
A stick, a stone,
It's the end of the road,
It's the rest of a stump,
It's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass,
It is life, it's the sun,
It is night, it is death,
It's a trap, it's a gun
The oak when it blooms,
A fox in the brush,
A knot in the wood,
The song of a thrush
The wood of the wind,
A cliff, a fall,
A scratch, a lump,
It is nothing at all
It's the wind blowing free,
It's the end of the slope,
It's a beam, it's a void,
It's a hunch, it's a hope
And the river bank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of the strain,
It's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground,
The flesh and the bone,
The beat of the road,
A slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash,
A silvery glow,
A fight, a bet,
The range of a bow
The bed of the well,
The end of the line,
The dismay in the face,
It's a loss, it's a find
A spear, a spike,
A point, a nail,
A drip, a drop,
The end of the tale
A truckload of bricks
In the soft morning light,
The shot of a gun
In the dead of the night
A mile, a must,
A thrust, a hump,
It's a girl, it's a rhyme,
It's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house,
The body in bed,
And the car that got stuck,
It's the mud, it's the mud
Afloat, adrift,
A flight, a wing,
A hawk, a quail,
The promise of spring
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of a strain
It's the joy in your heart
A snake, a stick,
It is John, it is Joe,
It's a thorn in your hand
And a cut on your toe
A point, a grain,
A bee, a bite,
A blink, a buzzard,
A sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle,
A sting, a pain,
A snail, a riddle,
A wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains,
A horse and a mule,
In the distance the shelves
Rode three shadows of blue
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of a strain
It's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground,
The flesh and the bone,
The beat of the road,
A slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash,
A silvery glow,
A fight, a bet,
The range of a bow
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of a strain
It's the joy in your heart
A stick, a stone,
It's the end of the road,
The rest of a stump,
Its a little bit long
It's the joy in your heart.
And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March,
It's the end of all strain,
It's the joy in your heart.
A stick, a stone
A stick, a stone