| The change could happen anyday
|
| So says the whippoorwill
|
| She hangs around for the seeds I leave
|
| Out on the windowsill
|
| «Be-free-you-fool, be-free-you-fool»
|
| She sings all afternoon
|
| Then, as if to show me how it’s done
|
| She leaps into the blue
|
| The change could happen anyday
|
| So say my true love’s eyes
|
| They see into my shadows
|
| With their sweet, forgiving light
|
| She smiles and says, Come on — let’s go
|
| Let’s stroll the boulevard
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| It’s such a shame to waste the night
|
| Just sitting in the dark
|
| The change could happen anyday
|
| Or so says Father Brown
|
| I listen for that still small voice
|
| But I just can’t make it out
|
| Beneath the constant whispering
|
| Of the devil that I know
|
| But who would I be if I believed?
|
| Who am I if I don’t?
|
| The change could happen anyday
|
| So said the mountaineer
|
| Before he turned to face his cliff
|
| Without a trace of fear
|
| Yodel-ay-hee-hoo, yodel-ay-hee-hoo
|
| He sang right up until
|
| He caught sight of the open blue
|
| And became a whippoorwill
|
| He caught sight of the open blue
|
| And became a whippoorwill |