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.