Mr. Crow called out – he said, “hey nice shoes.
They’re my favorite color and they look good on you.
You’d make a good crow in your next life.
Grow some wings; I think you’d like flying.”
He yelled at a blue jay across the street
And hopped a few times on his skinny crow feet.
I told Mr. Crow I don’t talk to birds –
Don’t like the chatter. Don’t know crow words.
I liked pretty things. I looked good in black.
What’s good is gone. Don’t think I’ll ever get it back – will I get it back?
He spotted my car the other day. I shook my fist and tried to shoo him away.
He said, “I wish I could drive, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
And it takes us forever to fly our way home.”
But he knows what he’ll be in his next life;
A well-dressed penguin with a sharp-nosed wife.
‘Cause they hang out in crowds with no need to fly.
When they get married, they’re hitched ‘til they die.
We liked pretty things and we looked good in black.
What’s good is gone. Can we ever get it back- can we get it back?
I don’t know what I wanted. Don’t know love is a skill.
Don’t know if I can grow up. But if I try, maybe I will – Baby I will.
He asked about you and why I live alone.
He coughed when I said that you sent me back home.
Maybe it was a laugh. Maybe it was a cry.
He shook his head, and he took to the sky.
I had a dream last night; I was tired there too,
From chasing the hope of being with you.
You turned away without saying good-bye.
I woke up wishing for just one more try.
We liked pretty thing and we looked good black.
You’ve been gone so long – are you ever coming back?
Are you coming back?