The bird sings it song, telling its tale of night to the morning.
To any who will listen to its tale.  They even sing in the big busy city.
Sometimes the noise drowns out the song, but if you listen closely you will hear it.
Listening, hearing is an important part of living.
Sometimes we would rather not hear other peoples songs.
We drown it out with the noise of we were right,
things were different, it's a lie.
Yet we need to hear the song in order to live in harmony
with all of life.  Cherishing the strain of dissident chords,
hearing the pain and anguish, or joy and gladness.
Sorrowing, sighing, living one with another in the song.