Hey, little songbird, give me a song
I'm a busy man and I can't stay long
I got clients to call, I got orders to fill
I got walls to build, I got riots to quell
And they're giving me hell back in Hades

Hey, little songbird, cat got your tongue?
Always a pity for one so pretty and young
When poverty comes to clip your wings
And knock the wind right out of your lungs
Hey, nobody sings on empty

Strange is the call of this strange man
I wanna fly down and feed at his hand
I want a nice soft place to land
I wanna lie down forever

Hey, little songbird, you got something fine
You'd shine like a diamond down in the mine
And the choice is yours, if you're willing to choose
Seeing as you've got nothing to lose
And I could use a canary

Suddenly, nothing is as it was
Where are you now, Orpheus?
Wasn't it gonna be the two of us?
Weren't we birds of a feather?

Hey, little songbird, let me guess
He's some kind of poet and he's penniless?
Give him your hand, he'll give you his hand-to-mouth
He'll write you a poem when the power's out
Hey, why not fly south for the winter?

Hey, little songbird, look all around you
See how the vipers and vultures surround you
And they'll take you down, they'll pick you clean
If you stick around such a desperate scene
See, people get mean when the chips are down

Copyright: Exploration Group LLC
Writer(s): Anais Mitchell