The calloo’s spirits are low
Swimming on the chill water
But the orphan’s are lower
Walking down the village street.
The sparrow’s belly is chill
Sitting on the icy bough
But my belly is more chill
As I step from glade to glade.
The dove’s heart is cold
As it pecks the village rick
But I’m colder still
As I drink the icy water.
I cannot take this anymo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore Saying everything I've said befo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore All these words they make…
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