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I listened to a birdthat told me all |
|
He seemed to make no sense as |
|
I recallI listened to the bees, their buzzing sounds |
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Told nothing of the purpose of their rounds |
|
The claws that tear, the fangs that bite |
|
The placid pond, the bird in flight |
|
The lion stalking 'round his kill |
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The flowers purpose on the hill |
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I looked out at the trees that gently swayed |
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They didn't need to know how they were made |
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I wondered if the world kept something hid |
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Denied to me, for something that |
|
I didThe claws that tear, the fangs that bite |
|
The placid pond, the bird in flight |
|
The lion stalking 'round his kill |
|
The flowers purpose on the hill |
|
I listened to a bird that told me all |
|
He seemed to make no sense as |
|
I recallSo far |
|
I haven't heard a songbird sing |
|
A single verse that told me anything |
|
The claws that tear, the fangs that bite |
|
The placid pond, the bird in flight |
|
The lion stalking 'round his kill |
|
The flowers purpose on the hill |
