In the deep forest beside the path, there's a tiny pond.
And although there's only dirty water and nothing lives there,
long, long ago they tell me that there used to live two pretty little
carps here.
One bright summer day in the small pond in the deep forest
the two carps faught and one went above the water.
The very tender skin of the fish rotted away
and the water followed suit and rotted away.
So they say that's why nothing is able to
live inside the pond.
In the deep forest beside the path, there's a tiny pond.
There's only dirty water and nothing lives there.
The once green leaves fall one and then two at a time.
Upon the pond they become little boats and then they sink deep down.
As a lost deer wandered in the forest it found the pond and drank from
it and fell asleep.
The sun sets west of the mountain and though the evening is silent,
After a small ladybug whistles by the back of the moutain
The black water quietly moves in endless time
as countless seasons pass.
And so in the deep forest beside the path, there's a tiny pond.
There's only dirty water and nothing lives there.