Being a Mockingbird - Bobby Long

The night it rests like a hammerblow and breaks the morning it brings

The mad men are down on the crypt floor sleeping through there favours and sins

I trained myself to be hardened and greet the bird like the day

I soared to greet lusty gamblings and drenched myself in the dusk where they lay

I exchanged the dark for the darkness and hung the belt from the wing

So the traitors may part with there malice but ill remember everything

I stood up and danced round the heckles and planted the leaf from the book

I admit i love my romances the blackbird, the wren, the rook

The church house won’t harbour the coffins but the docks they wittle there ships

To the pleasure the feast and the memory and the soar of kissing her lips

I gave up myself to the dawning, of the morning bird in first flight

I thought i ran the road of the pauper

I lost it all in the night

I lost it all in the night