I was a dying fire
Can you hear these fragile words
It's sad but that's the beauty of it
There's a goodness in this heart
And for all the tea in China
All the liquor I could drink
There's no persuading
No one to pull me screaming
Burning from this heap
My hands are little hammers
And they hammered out these words
Pounding ghost on distant mountain
To the angel love the goat
And my heart is made of sparrows
Mad birds from different spheres
And of course it never happened
Never whipsers in my ears
I never could be anything
But hurt in pain and fear
And my heart is made of sparrows
Mad birds from different spheres