If I were a bluebird,
I’d travel far and wide
I’d see the flowers and the trees
In homes I would abide.
I’d go to every land
And fly over every sea
Because being a flying traveler is who I’m ment to be.
But then one Sunday morning, after hour seven
I’d fly to my small nest once more
My sweet earthly heaven.
And on that very day, when just settled in
I’d here the cry of my kind
And right then and there, a friend I would find.