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?