A little bird sat in a tree
Thinking all the things he longed to be
Why am I not like the flowers I see
That attract all those buzzing bees
Why am I not like that big barn owl
That swoops around all big and proud
Why am I not like that cunning fox
That scares the mice and runs a-mock
All of a sudden the tree looked down
At the tiny bird all small and brown
Why little bird your are the best
And as I stand here all I see
Is all your amazing abilities
You fly so high you sing so sweet
And Your song offers such a treat
Your morning call wakes up the land
Your evening song is just so grand
The little birds heart filled with love
The tree had made him feel enough
He puffed his chest and flapped his wings
As he stood proud and begun to sing
Share this: