The telephone rings
I find myself hoping
It’s my little songbird
Flown out the door
I’m kicking myself
For leaving it open
Now he can’t sing
To me anymore

The last time I saw you
The yard was on fire
And my little songbird
Up in the clouds
Billowing smoke
From a mountain of tires
Signals the end
And circles around
The telephone rings
And I say hello
It’s my little songbird
Patching me through
Blood on my face
Tears on my pillow
Now i can sing it
Sing it for you
Flying with them overhead
Do you miss me at all
I’m dreaming
In your poster bed
As you try not to fall