Meadowlark, fly your way down,
I hold a cornucopia and a golden crown
for you to wear upon your fleece'd gown.
Ah meadowlark, sing to me.
Hummingbird, just let me die,
Inside the broken holes of your olive eyes.
I do believe you gave it your best try.
Ah hummingbird, sing to me.
Hmm.
Ah hummingbird, sing to me.
Don't believe a word that I haven't heard;
Little children laughin' at the boys and girls;
The meadowlark singin' to you each and ev'ry day;
The archon on the hillside and the market in the hay.
Ooo.
