Winter Birds Lyrics

It's the Widow now that owns that angry plow,
The Spartan Mule and The Crippled Cow.
The fal low field that will yield no more.
as the fox lay sleeping 'neath her kitchen floor.
The stream can't contain such the withering rain,
The clouds crack and growl like some great cat on the prowl.
Crying out, "I am, I am" over and over again.
The days grow short as the nights grow long.
The kettle sings its tortured songs.
A many petaled kiss I place upon her brow.
Oh, my lady, lady I am loving you now.
The Winter Birds have come back again.
Here the sprightly chickadee, gone now is the Willow Wren.
In passing, greet each other as if old, old friends. And to the voiceless
trees, it is their own they will lend.
The days grow short as the nights grow long.
The kettle sings its tortured songs.
A many petaled kiss I place upon her brow.
Oh, my lady, lady I am loving you now.
Though
all these things will
change,
the memories will remain.
As green to gold and gold to brown,
the leaves will fall to feed the ground.
And in their fall ing make no sound.
Oh, my la dy, lady I am loving you now.
I've gathered all my money and I'm goin' to town
to buy my lady a long and flowing gown.
'Cause come tomorrow morning we're off to the county fair.
I'll find a yellow flower and I will lace it in her hair.
Oh, my la dy, lady I am loving you now.