AND NO BIRDS SING
Written & Composed by Michael Woodhead
Copyright 1968, 2017

Nothing is left but a dead, charred world
There are no flowers, no women or men
There really is nothing and no birds sing

Nothing remains but a wearied Earth
There are no fauna, no women or men
There really is nothing and no birds sing

SPOKEN:
Oh how I miss them -- the sweet songs of birds
The nightingales' tunes to the silvery moons

Nothing is seen but a dead, burned world
There are no women, there are no men
There really is nothing and no birds sing