The last time I spoke to my aunt before she died   She was describing to me this incredible owl   That was sitting in a tree   It meant nothing to me   But it means a lot more now      Because I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird   I'm waiting, I'm ready, I know it is my turn   All those cigarettes, alcohol, this body's through   You're gone for sure when the bird comes for you      And the last time I spoke to my uncle before he died   It was the very same week, but one year before her   He was sitting alone in his study, on the phone   When a giant hawk flew by      Said, "i'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird,   I didn't expect to be noticed or heard.   Oh, elizabeth, help me, I can't find the room,   You're gone for sure when the bird comes for you."      And, oh, it is scary   And, oh, it is cold to the bone      My body's not ready for my mind to learn   I have just been consigned here to rot in the earth      Said, "i'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird,   It comes in and takes you away from this world.   Gate twenty-seven, I can't find the room.   You're free to board now, they're waiting for you."      I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting for the bird   I've seen it three times now, there's nothing to learn   And don't be surprised if the sky's bright and blue   And the white bird of texas comes barreling through