The sound of the nightingale echos across the air
Four seasons in a year it is always there
A haunting melody that shatters the urban din
It breaks the baritone of life without sin
My American nightingale sings a song of joy
From woman to man, to girl and boy
Yet she saves the best song for only my ear
It plays a chorus in my mind throughout the year
Across the sea and distant land
My guided voice, my hidden hand
Until we meet one winters day
The birds song is here to stay
So I close my eyes and drift through time
Floating along to its haunting chime