Hey, Little Songbird

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 their 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

Ain't 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, I got something fine

You 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 always, 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

And 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 around you

See how the vipers, and vultures, surround you

They'll take you down, they'll pick you clean

If you stick around such a desperate scene

People get mean, when the chips are down