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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
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