Meadowlark, fly your way down,
I hold a cornucopia and a golden crown
for you to wear upon your fleece´d gown.
Ah meadowlark, sing to me.

Hummingbird, just let me die,
Inside the broken holes of your olive eyes.
I do believe you gave it your best try.
Ah hummingbird, sing to me.

Hmm.

Ah hummingbird, sing to me.

Don´t believe a word that I haven´t heard;
Little children laughin´ at the boys and girls;
The meadowlark singin´ to you each and ev´ry day;
The archon on the hillside and the market in the hay.