Little Bird

My little bird, my little bird. I’ll sing to thee. I’ll sing in summer’s time. My little bird, my little bird, the morning will come all in a sun’s good old time. While you are sleeping, I will keep singing your sweet melody because you knew a boy who at age ten just moved in. And come tomorrow, the year will turn over—18/19. You were just watching. You gave me wings I flew so high. I flew so high. My little bird, my little bird, I will keep on singing. Oh my little bird, my little bird