Once we tried to record the singin' birds
Cable stretched for miles from your door
Near the landing of the planes I never felt so plain
Birds never sang the same again
I take the train in the morning when it's still night out
A night owl sings for the moonlight crowd
On the frozen path to your bedroom door
I walked beside you between sycamore
I never told you this but on Christmas
I saw you selling trees on avenue A
Winter wind knows your paper skin
Went to paris once -- I’ve never been
There's a certain slant of light on madison tonight
It shines on vines that grow in rows round
Telephone wires never tire of carrying midnight crows
Does the book of nightmares call across
The valley of not knowing
The wayward vine of winter time
And where on earth it is growing
And are your typewriter words for January third
the key to the secret venue
Perhaps you've heard singin' of the birds
You can't change a person ever darling can you?