little bird, little bird
with wings carved out of (?)
do you know exactly what you're doing?
little bird, little bird
at least you know now that I've heard
That there's always magic brewing
Time inside of your beak is like a breath to me
and night is like a death to me
so soft inside my mind
corridors of eyes and glass
will surely pass
the shards are buried in the grass
as moons left in the tide
little bird, little bird
I've told you know in human words
Can you sing it back while I am sleeping?
little bird, little bird
In tones so high that they're absurd
and the memory goes softly brewing
Time inside of your beak is like a breath to me
and night is like a death to me
so soft inside my mind
corridors of eyes and glass
will surely pass
the shards are buried in the grass
as moons left in the tide
as moons left in the tide