The early bird he slips away

And he lives to fly another day

He only serves to point the way

That you should or should not return

Two simple birds that never stray

When the lights go out on us

Just before when we we're found

Will not rush it, will enjoy it

Will not touch it, will rejoice it

The early bird he knows his place

And he'll stay all day there if he has to

He never hides or runs away

When the voices crowd on his

Cry so loud that you will die

Will not rush it, will enjoy it

Will not touch it, will rejoice it

Where did this come from

How long has this been going on

Where is it from

I feel my wheels are turning

I see the sky falling on every face

Telling us now that we ought to stay

I feel my wheels are turning

I see the open road before us stretch

Leading us somewhere past the hour