Wait for it now, for your turn, I brought you ointment for your burn

Too much fun in the sun could kill someone

Run little magpie, run run run, you got kissed by the lip of his gun

Red ribbon cut on a new freedom

Black raven on a fence, taken for a crow

You let your hair grow and the wind blows

Wait for it now, for your turn

You didn’t win, but you can learn

Too much fun in the sun…

Sit little birdie, stay some more

Chairs squeak on the kitchen floor

Windows open for you

Just for fun

Black raven on a fence, taken for a crow

You let your hair grow and the wind blows

Page after page I begin to understand you

And night after night, patience is a virtue

And year after year, we all become clear and see-through