Singin' Of The Birds

 

once we tried to record the singin birds 
cable stretched for miles from yr door 
near the landin of the planes i never felt so plain 
birds never sang the same again 

i take the train in the mornin when it's still night out 
a night owl sings for the moonlight crowd 
on the frozen path to yr bedroom door 
i walked beside u between sycamore 

i never told u this but on christmas 
i saw u sellin trees on avenue A 
winter wind knows yr paper skin  
went to paris once -- i’ve never been  

theres a certain slant of light on madison tonight 
it shines on vines that grow in rows roun 
telephone wires never tire  
of carryin midnight crows 

does the book of nightmares call across  
the valley of not knowing 
the wayward vine of wintertime  
and where on earth it is growing 

and are yr typewriter words for january third 
the key to the secret venue 
perhaps you've heard singin of the birds 
you cant change a person ever darlin can you?

 

 

 

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