Little Bird Infant Sorrow

Little bird
Drink the champagne from my lips
Take a flying saucer trip
To the stars in my eyes

Little bird
Sitting on the tip of my tongue
Though you look a bit too young
Could be the stars in my eyes

Your words, like butterflies, dance around my head
Your body, like forbidden wine, spills out of my bed

Hope your daddy doesn't mind
Hope your mummy doesn't mind
Hope your granny doesn't mind
Hope your grandpa doesn't mind

Little bird
You have got to be eighteen
Or a few years past your teens;
Or you are in my eyes

Little bird
If you are born before ninety-two
Then you know just what to do;
Rip the stars from my eyes