in winter we are sober we are deathly afraid
of the mourning that is coming when our friends fly away

we are young and so afraid
and we don't know if we'll make it

in summer we are flighty and we find ourselves here
in the northern part of cities with the weather hot and clear

we are bold having traveled so far
but we don't know how we got there

except to fly away, spread our little wings
and fly away, far away

we may be young in appearance
but these bones are old in spirit
carry us home, please take us home