Pigeons

I watch the pigeons as they go
Across the road tipping their noses
As the boys puff up in show
And the girls run off alone

I watch a conversation weave
Between the branches of the trees
I see the seasons in the leaves
These are the stories that I read

Hmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmm

I watch the pigeons in the sky
I watch the wind as they go by
They color in what with my eyes
I am not seeing

I watch the turning of a page
Flying above me in my place
These are the stories that I name
To know and show how they got older

Ooooh
La da da da dat da da

I watch the people walking by
Beneath the silver-studded sky
These are the stories that I like
From in the days that mark my time
I watch the pigeons in the eaves
They sit like music there to read
I hear them playing to the beat
Of New York City

There's a breeze

La da da da dat da da da da da da dat da da