'Morning time,' said the morning-side to his comrades in the trees real high.
‘But if your mind's made up, that's fine,
We can settle it when the suns's low in the sky.
‘But I haven't anywhere to go,' piped up the spring peeper,
‘so I better stay close to home,
Besides, my wing's been clipped to the bone.'
Well before the sky would open
So I rested my case and she rested her bones,
In a quiet grassy place by the side of the road,
And it snowed that night and reminded me of home.
Of home.
‘The flight you take is the flight you make,' reminded that fine morning-side,
‘But if I was you I'd be most inclined, take the wind up on his offer of a free ride.'
So you spread your wings wide and I spread mine,
And we took a deep breath and we leapt to the skies,
But were quickly recognized through our feathered disguise.
So I rested my case and he rested his bones,
In a quiet grassy place by the side of the road,
And it snowed that night and reminded me of home.
Of home.
The red winged black bird met me at the corner of the world to come.
Said, ‘you've been undone so many times I want to find out
Who you are and where your family comes from.'
So he drank my past, like the finest of wines,
And he ate up my history like he'd never been so hungry.
Then he looked me in the eye and we made our goodbyes.
So I rested my case and we rested our bones,
In a quiet grassy place by the side of the road,
And it snowed that night and reminded me of home.
Of home.