For The Birds
©1986 Dakota Sid Clifford


For all the feathered friends I've had, and all the songs they've sung
For all the old black crows that called my name when I was young
For all the things they've given me that I cannot put in words
Here's to you guy's, this one's for the birds

For every flock of blackbirds moving shadows in the sky
To the wedge of geese a-honkin', saying wintertime is nigh
To the baby robins peeping, raising up their fuzzy heads
To the barn owl hooting in the night beyond the old woodshed

        To the red tailed hawk a-circling in the California sky
        To the whipporwill, a-whippin' up a southern lullaby
        To the gulls along the seaboard, that never seem to tire
        To the meadowlark a-larking' on that southern forty wire

Here's to blue jays all a-screamin', and yelling out at us
A picnic ain't a picnic, without that noisy fuss
To the pigeons in the hayloft and the ducks out on the ground
To the parrot on my shoulder, to the feather that I found

To the hawks out in the desert, to the peacock, like a flower
To the falcon stooping through the air, two hundred miles an hour
To the condor and the kestrel, kingfisher and the kite
To the ones that work the day shift and the ones that sing at night

        To the mighty American eagle, with eyes a-blazing fire
        To the peaceful dove, a symbol of, a thing we all desire
        For everything they've given me that I cannot put in words
        Here's to you guys, this one's for the birds