Friday, December 23, 2005


Listen to my bluebird laugh.

She can't tell you why.

Deep within her heart, you see,

She knows only crying.

Just crying.

There she sits, aloft at perch.

Strangest color blue.

Flying is forgotten now.

Thinks only of you.

Just you.

Oh yeah...

So, get all those blues,

Must be a thousand hues.

And be just differently used.

You just know.

You sit there mesmerized

By the depth of her eyes

That you can't categorize.

She got soul.

She got soul.

She got soul.

She got soul!

Do you think she loves you?

Do you think at all?

Soon she's going to fly away.

Sadness is her own.

Give herself a bath of tears

And go home, and go home.

-Buffalo Springfield-