When do the birds that fly
Come out at night
leaving us all behind
Who knows the reaper
Who fears that which they know
Why dont the birds that fly
come out at nightWhy do the birds that sing
sing at night
Telling the story of their plight
The blackness in which they blend
And so nicely they fend
Sacing their lives, and their childrens’ too
Where are the birds, forever doomed
Come out at night
leaving us all behind
Who knows the reaper
Who fears that which they know
Why dont the birds that fly
come out at nightWhy do the birds that sing
sing at night
Telling the story of their plight
The blackness in which they blend
And so nicely they fend
Sacing their lives, and their childrens’ too
Where are the birds, forever doomed
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the crowds are far below me
There’s a land that is made of
The milk and the honey too.
And wake up where the crowds are far below me
There’s a land that is made of
The milk and the honey too.
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