| Dark comes down like a bird in flight
|
| Most good people have gone to rest
|
| But us poor fools who wake at night
|
| When we’re lonely, we sing our best
|
| Listen and hark, out in the dark
|
| A mockingbird in a tall tree
|
| Busts his throat on a high sweet note
|
| Nobody knows he’s there but me
|
| He sings his best when nobody’s listening
|
| Nobody’s listening
|
| But me
|
| Dark comes down like a heron’s wing
|
| Honeysuckle is in the air
|
| That’s when I like to sit and sing
|
| Nobody listens, but I don’t care
|
| Out in a swamp, by a firefly ramp
|
| An old frog fiddles his double bass
|
| Over the hill, a whippoorwill
|
| Sings her note from a secret race
|
| She sings her best when nobody’s listening
|
| Nobody’s listening
|
| But me
|
| We sing our best when nobody’s listening
|
| Nobody’s listening
|
| But me
|
| Dark comes down like a bird in flight
|
| Most good people have gone to rest
|
| But us poor fools who wake at night
|
| When we’re lonely, we sing our best
|
| Listen and hark, out in the dark
|
| A mockingbird in a tall tree
|
| Busts his throat on a high sweet note
|
| Nobody knows he’s there but me
|
| He sings his best when nobody’s listening
|
| Nobody’s listening
|
| But me
|
| Dark comes down like a heron’s wing
|
| Honeysuckle is in the air
|
| That’s when I like to sit and sing
|
| Nobody listens, but I don’t care
|
| Out in a swamp, by a firefly ramp
|
| An old frog fiddles his double bass
|
| Over the hill, a whippoorwill
|
| Sings her note from a secret race
|
| She sings her best when nobody’s listening
|
| Nobody’s listening
|
| But me
|
| We sing our best when nobody’s listening
|
| Nobody’s listening
|
| (End) |