Meadowlark, fly your way down,
I hold a cornucopia and a golden crown
for you to wear upon your fleecy gown.
Ah meadowlark, sing to me.
Hummingbird, just let me die
Inside the broken ovals of your olive eye.
I do believe you gave it your best try.
My hummingbird, sing to me.
My hummingbird, sing to me.
Don't believe a word that I haven't heard
Little children laughing at the boys and girls.
The meadowlark singing to you each and every day.
The arc light on the hillside and the market in the hay.