The Secret Language of Birds Ian Anderson

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This sparkling wine is all but empty
Too late for trains and no taxis
I know the feeling. seems all too contrived
There was no master plan but the fact is:
You must stay with me and learn the secret language of birds

A tentative dawn about to be breaking
On a Rousseau garden with monkeys in hiding
The truth of the matter, yet to be spoken
In words on which everything, everything's riding
Now stay with me and learn the secret language of birds

Circled by swallows
In a world for the weary
Courted by warblers; wicked and eloquent trilling

Lie in the stillness, window cracked open
Extended moments, hours for the taking
Careless hair on the pillow, a bold brushstroke
Painted verse with a chorus in waiting
Stay with me and learn the secret language of birds