A Little Bird, Pt. 2 Lyrics

Born a peasant mountain lion

Laying in the snow

Find your brother not moving

Push him with your nose

Watch him falling from the mountain

Far away from home

The birds find the lion on the ground

Drag him to the farm

A sky bleeds from the lion's mouth

As they cross the barn

Find the old farmer crying

Staring at the pelt

He stares out

How sad not to remember a face

How sad not to see it everyday

When you close my eyes to love someone for life

And no longer have it memorized

There was a woman who spoke to me

Her beautiful voice and poetry

I took it committed it to memory

But it was never real

I pretended it to be

How sad not to hear music bleed from the streets

Every morning

Every morning

The past bleeding from my brain

Every morning

I have seen milk from a thistle utters the breast of a mother almonds coconuts and oats

Kids kissing and swimming in rivers

A million mailboxes with letters dripping blood

The face of a friend go pale while lying in my limbs

The bluest shores and the greenest gorge

Weeping at the beauty of this earth

I have grown old and I have no plans

I have seen life come from everything that blows in the wind

I have seen life end from everything that crows in the wind

And stays still

And that's some awfully real blood

That's a terrifyingly real pelt

Under this hurtful piercing sun

I never knew death was so real

And that's some guilt