The early bird he slips away And he lives to fly another day He only serves to point the way That you should or should not return Two simple birds that never stray When the lights go out on us Just before when we we're found Will not rush it, will enjoy it Will not touch it, will rejoice it The early bird he knows his place And he'll stay all day there if he has to He never hides or runs away When the voices crowd on his Cry so loud that you will die Will not rush it, will enjoy it Will not touch it, will rejoice it Where did this come from How long has this been going on Where is it from I feel my wheels are turning I see the sky falling on every face Telling us now that we ought to stay I feel my wheels are turning I see the open road before us stretch Leading us somewhere past the hour