Well I saw a bird today - flying from a bush and the wind blew it away.
And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly at play - velvet
veined I saw it burn.
With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew right on by
And, taking in the morning, I sang - O Requiem.
Well, my lady told me, "Stay."
I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.

But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred close behind the
taxi stand.
Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window.
Fading in the traffic; watched her go.
And taking in the morning, heard myself singing - O Requiem.
Here I go again. It's the same old story.
 [bad word] 

Well, I saw a bird today - I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.