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STARLINGS
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Riding with my family in a '58 Buick
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I can still recall
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How we'd drive through the valley
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To my Grandmother's house
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Every summer vacation
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When I was small
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And I'd gaze out the window
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At the farms and the orchards
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And the sound of our motor
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Would frighten the starlings
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And they'd rise from the fields to fly
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My mother would grumble
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"Those birds are a curse
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They're a thorn in the farmers" side
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But I couldn't help feeling sad and inspired
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By their desperate ballet in the sky
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Chorus
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Say a prayer for the starlings
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A hot, dry wind beats their ragged wings
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Have a thought for the starlings
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No one ever listens to the songs they sing
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Say a prayer for the starlings
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There's no welcome for them anywhere
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Leave some crumbs for the starlings
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They say that Winter will be cold this year
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She was sitting on a curb by the Seven Eleven
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STARLINGS
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| Randy Stonehill |
