Toward the end of a hard day's work, sometimes I get to feeling low.
I don't own much besides my shirt and my loving life is touch and go.
I sing the blues because I see that nothing's right and plenty's wrong.
Then I hear this bird up close mocking my sad complaining song:
O Mocking Bird Against the Sun singing what's been sung before,
Repeating things and nothing more, I Am You and We Are One.
O Mocking Bird Against the Sun doing what has been designed:
Being born to fill our time with nothing more than what's been done.
Once, when luck was good to me, men said I was very wise.
And when the ladies looked at me, I saw promise in their eyes.
I walked like I was kin to gods. And separated from the herd
I made up my own applause. then I hear this mocking bird:
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I've seen this bird most everywhere: in a mess of telephone wires;
On top of castles in the air; on top of chimneys without fires.
It must have been there at my birth and sang my songs when I was young
And, with me, it'll leave this earth, and another bird will do what's done.
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