| Lyrics: | 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 |
