Southern Birds

Outside my room, I can hear the wind

In it, useless or a shadow

I can see something in my window

It looks just like my ghost

But I think it's just the night

Staring back at me into loneliness

With the patience of the willow

Who's waiting for that searchin' wind

Waiting for a light

So why, then, if this is true

Do I love the night and it's hollow moon

And those southern birds leaving me behind

When they go back home, I wanna go home

Fly home, fly home

Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm