Hope Is the Thing With Feathers Lyrics – Ben Moore

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm

I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity
It asked a crumb of me
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com

Listen to their music here
  
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate and an Apple Partner, we earn from qualifying purchases

Ben Moore Lyrics – Hope Is the Thing With Feathers

Ben Moore

Hope Is the Thing With Feathers