Listen to my bluebird laugh.
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She can't tell you why.
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Deep within her heart, you see,
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She knows only crying.
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Just crying.
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There she sits, a lofty perch.
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Strangest color blue.
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Flying is forgotten now.
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Thinks only of you.
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Just you.
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So, get all those blues,
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Must be a thousand hues.
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And each just differently used.
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You just know.
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You sit there mesmerized
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By the depth of her eyes
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That you can't categorize.
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She got soul.
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She got soul.
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She got soul.
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She got soul!
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Do you think she knows you?
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Do you think at all?
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Soon she's going to fly away.
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Sadness is her own.
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Reverse of a bath of tears
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And go home, and go home.
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Bluebird
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| Buffalo Springfield |
