Mocking Bird- Ae Freishlighe

The mocking bird cries at night

Somber songs make her stiffen 

She prevails in spite of fright 

Her pulse begins to quicken 

Funny little bird he is

My trapped angel of the sky 

He fills her head up with twigs 

Against all logic he cries 

Mocking birds don't cry at night 

By daylight real song returns 

I entice his dream-land flight 

Her secret: the mocking bird.