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Feb 25
Am                            G
Ripples are echoes, for those who can't hear
Am                                    G
thunder has light-ning, to tell them its near
Am                                G
The moon is an echo, for no sun in the sky
Am                     G
day is an echo, for night that is why

Am                              G
Guitar’s are in echo, when they are strum
Am                      G
voices respond, re-sounding the hum
Am                               G
Shadows are echoes, at NOON they’re alone
Am                                   G
but the word it reflects, so its called palindrome

Am                                     G
Trains they make echoes, in tunnels with *****
Am                                     G
and though it’s but one, they call them two hoots
Am                           G
A bell has an echo, when ringing the news
Am                            G
anvils have echoes, when horses wear shoes

Am                                  G
Rainbows have echoes, in pots at each end
Am                       G
who was it said, that sunbeams can't bend
Am                           G
Lighthouses flash, with echoes in Morse
Am                                G
for posh sailing boats, and not Viking Norse

Am                            G
A bow has an echo, with a wow at the end
Am                            G
one midnight bark, starts setting a trend
Am                             G
A dream is an echo, of what we once did
Am                   G
hid in a bottle, behind Jeannie’s lid

Am                                    G                
Our words in the ether, will never meet
Am                            G
that’s why an echo, can never cheat
Am                           G
My echo my echo, is loneliest of all
Am                                  G
that’s why they listen, at my wailing wall

Am                                 G
Heartbeats are echoes, like yours and like mine
Am                              G
that’s why this song, must end with a pine.


                             Chorus

        Am                       G
        Echo all echoes, are art on the wall,
        Am                                G
        must be the sadd-est, sounds of them all
        Am                       G
        Echo all echoes, are art on the wall
        Am                               G
        must be the sadd-est, sounds of them all
        Am                       G
        Echo all echoes, are art on the wall,
        Am                                G
        must be the sadd-est, sounds of them all.




Ryan O'Leary ©
25/02/2021
Ryan O'Leary
Written by
Ryan O'Leary  Mallow.
(Mallow.)   
72
 
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