Well I saw a bird today - flying from a bush and the wind blew it away.
And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly at play - velvet
veined I saw it burn.
With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew right on by
And, taking in the morning, I sang - O Requiem.
Well, my lady told me, "Stay."
I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.
But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred close behind the
Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window.
Fading in the traffic; watched...
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