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Every morning at 5:30
There's a little bird outside my window
5:30 On the knocker, comes a-squeaking and a-squawking
A little bird outside my window
By 6:00, he's left us to finish off his rounds
Perhaps he's gone to wake up someone else in this old town
Hey, I'm not quite sure what he looks like
That little bird outside our window
But I would not hesitate to wring his neck some days
That little bird outside our window
And in the winter darkness you roll over cursing in your sleep
As his voice grates like an angle grinder, drags us from the deep
Such a red breast rude awakening, clamorously bad
The soundtrack to a hangover you never even had
It's that little bird outside my window
5:30 Bird outside my window
Then one day you wake and something's changed and someone's gone
And that little bird outside your window does not realize
Somehow you've come to like his tuneless little song
Yeah, that little bird outside your window
For someone who's gone, we'll never hear a voice like that again
Take comfort in its squawking in the sunshine and the rain
We can lie and hold each other, yawn and we might say
"When we hear that fucking bird, we've lived another
Day." It's that little bird outside my window
5:30 Bird outside my window
Outside my window
Outside my window