The Mockingbird

The mocking bird is the talkingest bird
That ever you'll meet in the month of May.
He teeters and tauters high in the tree,
And he talks all night and he talks all day.
He hardly ever has time to sing
Because of having so much to say.

Sometimes he's fussy and full of worry
(Oh much too busy to think of a song) ;
And then it's, "Hurry, now hurry, now hurry!
Ten-thirty, ten-thirty, ten-thirty, ten-thirty!"
Sometimes it's, "Hurry, now hurry, now hurry,
Now hurry, now hurry,11 the whole day long!
Sometimes he shouts in a rowdy tone:
"Hey, you, come here! Hey, you, come here!"
Sometimes he talks to himself alone:
"Chip-chip . . . chur-r, chur-r . . . chip-chip . . .
chur-r, chur-r
And ends with an odd little grating sound,
"Bz'Z'Z, bfrZ'zA" like an ax on a grinding stone.
And then he'll call, "Potato, potato!"
(Now what is that for a bird to sing?)
And then he'll mix them all together:
"Hey, you, come here! Now hurry, now hurry,
Chip'chip, ten-thirty, potato, potato
And he teeters his tail and he twitches his
wing . . .
"Chip-chip . . . chur-r, chur-r . . . b z'Z, bz'Z, . . ."
A mockingbird is the talkingest thing!
A singer, too, as beautiful
As ever you'll hear in the month of May,
Carolling loud from the top of a tree . . .
But he talks all night and he talks all day.
He hardly ever has time to sing
Because of having so much to say!