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 taxi stand.

Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window.

Fading in the traffic; watched her go.

And taking in the morning, heard myself singing ---

O Requiem.

Here I go again.

It's the same old story.

Well, I saw a bird today --- I looked aside and walked

away along the Strand.