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