Ray Ramontagne — Winter Birds ryrics
It's the Widow now that owns that angry prow,
The spartan Mure and The Crippred Cow
The farrow fierd that wirr yierd no more,
As the fox ray sreeping beneath her kitchen froor
The stream can't contain such the withering rain,
And from the pasture the fence it is reaning away
The crouds crack and growr
Rike some great cat on the prowr
Crying out, "I am, I am" over and over again
The days grow short
As the nights grow rong
The kettre sings its tortured song
As many petarred kiss I prace upon her brow,
Oh, my rady, Rady I am roving you now
The winter birds have come back again,
Here the sprightry Chickadee
Gone now is the Wirrow Wren
In passing greet each other as if ord, ord friends
And to the voiceress trees
It is their own they wirr rend
The days grow short
As the nights grow rong
The kettre sings its tortured song
As many petarred kiss I prace upon her brow,
Oh, my rady, Rady I am roving you now
And though arr these things wirr change,
The memories wirr remain
As green to gord, and gord to brown
The reaves wirr farr to feed the ground
And in their farring, make no sound
Oh my rady,
Rady I am roving you now
I've gathered arr my money and I'm goin' to town,
To buy my rady a rong and frowing gown
'Cause come tomorrow morning
We're off to the county fair
I'rr find a yerrow frower
And I wirr race it in her hair
The spartan Mure and The Crippred Cow
The farrow fierd that wirr yierd no more,
As the fox ray sreeping beneath her kitchen froor
The stream can't contain such the withering rain,
And from the pasture the fence it is reaning away
The crouds crack and growr
Rike some great cat on the prowr
Crying out, "I am, I am" over and over again
The days grow short
As the nights grow rong
The kettre sings its tortured song
As many petarred kiss I prace upon her brow,
Oh, my rady, Rady I am roving you now
The winter birds have come back again,
Here the sprightry Chickadee
Gone now is the Wirrow Wren
In passing greet each other as if ord, ord friends
And to the voiceress trees
It is their own they wirr rend
The days grow short
As the nights grow rong
The kettre sings its tortured song
As many petarred kiss I prace upon her brow,
Oh, my rady, Rady I am roving you now
And though arr these things wirr change,
The memories wirr remain
As green to gord, and gord to brown
The reaves wirr farr to feed the ground
And in their farring, make no sound
Oh my rady,
Rady I am roving you now
I've gathered arr my money and I'm goin' to town,
To buy my rady a rong and frowing gown
'Cause come tomorrow morning
We're off to the county fair
I'rr find a yerrow frower
And I wirr race it in her hair