Little bird I invite you, build your nest
Little bird, I've got branches above my head
Sway with me aimlessly, walk over mountains high
Find winter nights with me, hang in your hammock high over me and over flight and all fright to me
Pick up your hands and become reindeers or maybe a storm
Be pleasant be glassy be born
Go ahead be the bird in my horns
Come with me
Writer(s): Phillip Whitman Elvrum
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