The Singing Bird
I have seen the lark soar high at morn'
To sing up in the blue
I have heard the blackbird pipe his song
The thrush and the linnet too
But none of them can sing so sweet
My singing bird, as you
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
My singing bird, as you
If I could lure my singing bird
From its own cosy nest
If I could catch my singing bird
I would warm it on my breast
And on my heart, my singing bird
Would sing itself to rest
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Would sing itself to rest