I wish the birds would tell the truth,

It’s something they don’t seem to do:

They sing these songs of innocence,

And what is that to me and you?

The morning’s calm simplicity

Is ringing with a happy tune:

But I know what’s to come for us

The gath’ring clouds are weeping soon —

I wish the birds would soar away,

And take me with them when they fly:

But sing no more of morning joy

For it’s no more

It’s all

A lie