The last time I spoke to my aunt before she died

She was describing to me this incredible owl

That was sitting in a tree

It meant nothing to me

But it means a lot more now



Because I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird

I'm waiting, I'm ready, I know it is my turn

All those cigarettes, alcohol, this body's through

You're gone for sure when the bird comes for you



And the last time I spoke to my uncle before he died

It was the very same week, but one year before her

He was sitting alone in his study, on the phone

When a giant hawk flew by



Said, "I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird,

I didn't expect to be noticed or heard.

Oh, Elizabeth, help me, I can't find the room,

You're gone for sure when the bird comes for you."



And, oh, it is scary

And, oh, it is cold to the bone



My body's not ready for my mind to learn

I have just been consigned here to rot in the earth



Said, "I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird,

It comes in and takes you away from this world.

Gate twenty-seven, I can't find the room.

You're free to board now, they're waiting for you."



I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird

I've seen it three times now, there's nothing to learn

And don't be surprised if the sky's bright and blue

And the white bird of Texas comes barreling through