The Sparrow, and The Thrush, and The Nightingale
Have put their love-songs up for sale.
Old Mister Sparrow said "It's for the best,
Think of the chicks now, we've got to invest.
We could lie in bed almost every day,
It was such a silly song, anyway."
"We got to get up every morning at six,
And I'm living in a house that's made of sticks.
If we could give all that music a rest,
We can move ourselves to a bigger nest.
I never really knew what the song was about,
So let's all fly away and rent the old nest out.”
Now said Mister Thrush, "May I disagree?
I'm sick of living in a tree.
I've always been such a hard-working bird,
Singing my love-songs to please the world.
It's time to get ourselves a respectable house.
Sitting on a nest, what was that all about?”
The Nightingale was the last to speak,
He said, "Hang on boys, now listen to me.
For I am the bird with a song so sweet.
That everybody weeps when I open my beak,
And all of our fans call you ‘The Other Two',
So I should get a little bit more than you.”
The very next day when I happened on by,
Empty the nest was and empty the sky.
From the trees there was never a sound,
But blood and feathers on the ground.
I really can't imagine what the problem could be,
When everybody knows that music is free.
