Hear the way the cold wind moans
Makes the room sound like there's ghosts
And like a ghost I lie here waiting
As if there's nothing else to do
As if my life's already through
I lie here listening to the wind
And she said, "I won't be calling again."
So I go outside
My mind just runs
I wish I was high as that lucky old sun
'Cause when it goes down
It keeps coming up
I'm a bird
I'm a bird
I'm a pretty little bird
But I've been grounded for so long
That I've forgotten how to sing
I forgot how to work my wings
So now I live like other men
And she said, "I won't be calling again."
So I go outside
My mind just runs
I wish I was high as that lucky old sun
'Cause when it goes down
It keeps coming up
It goes down
But it keeps coming up
It keeps coming up