Released October 1996 (UK)

Tracks:

1. Goodnight (2.53)
2. Candy Girl (3.57)
3. Jesus Is My Girlfriend (5.24)
4. I Didn’t Want To Wake You Up (5.15)
5. Dead Bird Sings (5.12) (US album version: 4.24 – slightly remixed)
6. Atomic Soda (5.08)
7. You’re Gorgeous (3.43)
8. Bad Shave 2 (*) (3.26)
9. Bad Shave 3 (+) (4.28)
10. Cornershop (3.49)
11. King Bing (*) (9.55)
12. You & Me (4.09)
13. 45 & Fat (4.12)
14. Too Handsome To Be Homeless (4.43)
15. C.F.C. (+) (3.45)
16. July (3.46)
17. Baby Bird (5.02)
18. Bebe Limonade (^)
19 Je suis un Imbecile Anglais (¤)

Catalogue numbers:

Echo UK CD: ECHCD11 (*)
Echo UK MC:ECHMC11 (*)
Echo UK LP: ECHLP11(*)
Atlantic US CD: 83049-2 (+)
(Released Oct.1997)
Atlantic US LP: 83049-1 (+)
Japanese CD: pccy-01042 (Pony Canyon)
French CD: Label Service: 0724384274726 (^)
F rech 2CD version (incl. 2 extra tracks): VISA 4010 (¤)
German CD: Road Runner: rr8086042 (*)
EU CD: MCA: mcd80136 (*)

Selected files

Ugly Trivia

• Ugly Beautiful is the debut album by Babybird the band.
• Peaked at number 9 in the Uk Charts
• Goodnight, You’re Gorgeous, Candy Girl and Cornershop were released as singles.
• The band on this album includes Huw Chadbourn (keyboards), Robert Gregory (drums), John Pedder (bass) and Luke Scott
• US version was released in 1997
• US version replaces King Bing with CFC, it replaces Bad Shave 2 with Bad Shave 3, and US version of Dead Bird Sings is shorter and mixed differently
• Lo-fi tracks Goodnight, Candy Girl, Bad Shave, Cornershop, Too Handsome To Be Homeless, C.F.C. and Baby Bird were re-recorded for this album
• French version includes Bebe Limonade.
• Je Suis un Imbécile Anglais is the incredible rare track only released on a two track bonus CD with Ugly Beautiful in France in 1996. Farmer is the other track. The song is typical homemade stuff of the cheap, weird and groovy kind not unlike Snake Caves – this time with Stephen trying out his best (or worst, probably) basic French phrases.

The Babybird Story

Between attemps to act badly, usher in cinemas. And fail to get work as a factory stacker for Kelly Girl, stephen jones recorded 400 songs as a cure for laziness. From 1988 to 1994, songs and soundtracks were recorded onto four-track tape recorder, no bigger than a shoebox. for these six years, songs were recorded, without any idea or plan to release them. One drunken evening the idea to release five albums stuck the morning after. And four limited- edition lo-budget albums slipped out in 1995-1996 on Babybird recordings. based on the naive notion that ‘good shit’ shines brightly through ‘bad shit’, a sweet ‘n’ sour-smelling underground history was born, unplanned like a cheeky little bastard

Little over a year ago Babybird became five men. Five big brick shithouses playing delicate songs with puppy-soft fingers. Amplifying simplicity, and kicking the head off musicianship, and all the mystery that brings.

 

Ugly Beautiful
Is the result of this chemistry – in the studio, in the
bedroom, and on tour

Ugly Beautiful
Is an album of songs to annoy, enjoy
and employ God with.

God is the most successful famous person I know. The press can’t get near him, so I never get to read about him. They don’t bother to go after him, he’s invisible. Some churches even leave their doors open, but the only photographers going in, take instamatic supersnaps of icons nailed to wooden planes without motors.

The closest I ever got to such religious flights of fancy was in the Costa del Sol. Someone had stuck a cutout of Branson’s face on a beautiful bust of God’s son. It was almost too good for a picture. I did have a good camera, but you can’t get photograph lies, however much you try. So there you have it – Ugly Beautiful – just a harmless little bit of fun. Nothing as bad as celibates having fantasies about Jesus.

But admittedly some of this album features God – The big white metaphor for religion. But of it makes you feel better, I was made to sing in church as a child, and I had bad thoughts about Jesus all the time, so I did a simply trick. I just thought of him as a little Mexican fella. And there he was, in my head, as I lip-synced “To Be a Pilgrim”, slouched at a table at the Barsoul (an English bar owned by the reverend Hick Mucknall), sipping on the neck of a diet Pope or an orange Fatwa, fishing out a dead lime quarter from a can of Kestral Super Deluxe. And the fantasies worked – they actually managed to make me feel better.

In a funny way, Babybird are religious – believing in something big and invisible, not in a big bird or a big man pee-weed-up in a yellow feather suit, but in something more like a hummingbird – there, not there, there, not there – scooping up nectar then defecating cornels all over the ground. Watching them seed and grow-up into trees for Babybird to write their songs on.

Beaver’s last words

Ugly Beautiful

Is the search for perfection. Its like trying to kill flies with scissors. It’s impossible to stop the buzzing and the zizzing one, or even 15 slices of stainless steel Sheffield knife. It’s like trying to eliminate workmen, pneumatic drills, neighbours, car alarms without murder. If we ever got close to perfection, to chop the fly in half, I’d stick the little bugger’s head on a cocktail stick, and place it outside the king of flies house with his dung throne, to warn off all the other little irritations…… Ah. Now that’s life.

Lyrics

Goodnight

I hold you closely, you push me away,
I want forever, you just want today.
Give me your fingers, wash out your mouth,
bite off my tongue on this bloody couch.
But I don’t blame you, you’re always right.
I’m like a bad day on your good, good night.
I hear the tick of a bomb, all your hair in a fuse,
you ask me for a light to blow away these blues.
Run me a bath then plug me in,
I’m like a TV learning to swim.
But I don’t blame you, you’re always right.
I’m like a bad day on your good, good night.

Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmmm.

I hold you closely, you push me away,
I want forever, you just want today.
Give me your fingers, wash out your mouth,
bite off my tongue on this bloody couch.
But I don’t blame you, you’re always right.
I’m like a bad day on your good, good night.

But I don’t blame you, you’re always right.
I’m like a bad day on your good, good, good, goodnight.

Candy Girl

Are you the tornado in my sails?
Are you Jesus without the nails?
Are you the Bury Met without rails?
Are you Paris without snails?
Of course you’re not, but you’re all I’ve got,
and that’s fine and dandy, when you lick, when you lick my candy girl.
When you lick my candy, candy, candy, candy, candy, candy girl.
Are you Disneyland without whales?
Are you a farmer without bales?
Are you the red lion without ales?
Are you the lakes without dales?
Naturally you’re not, but you’re all I’ve got,
and that’s fine and dandy, when you lick, when you lick my candy girl.
When you lick my candy, candy, candy, candy, candy, candy girl.

Are you Ra without Dion?
Are you the words in the sky without neon?
Are you indigenous or did you disappear?
Are you the lime in my bottleneck of beer?
Of course you’re not, but you’re all I’ve got,
and that’s fine and dandy, when you lick, when you lick my candy girl.
When you lick my candy, candy, candy, candy, candy, candy girl.

Candy, candy, candy girl. Candy, candy, candy girl.
Candy, candy, candy girl. Candy, candy, candy, candy girl.

Jesus is my Girlfriend

Look at my hands, they’re all over you.
My rusty nails stuck to you like glue.
My arms around you like audio tape.
Got a little red horn underneath this cape.
It’s not dirty, it’s not rude.
I’ll go to Kuwait if I wanna, if I wanna get crude.
It’s not filthy, it’s not lewd.
I’m gonna get famous, just so that I can get sued

Guess who’s my girlfriend.
Yeah, ten out of ten,
Yeah, it’s Jesus, she’s my girlfriend.
Wanna know who my boyfriend is?
No, nought out of ten.
Jesus ain’t a man, she’s my girlfriend.

Jesus is my Girlfriend.
Jesus is my Girlfriend.

It’s not drink, it’s not food.
It’s a man in a shuttle with a tube.
I can’t fly, so what, I can’t cook,
can’t even catch a tune with a hook.
I’ve been to Hong Kong and South Dakota
in a little wood plane without a motor.
Got agirl in bed, when I took it further,
Where Jamaica? No I coaxed her. H! Ha!

It’s not dirty, it’s not rude.
I wanna if I wanna, if I wanna, if I wanna get crude.
It’s not filthy, it’s not lewd.
I’m gonna get famous, just so that I can get sued

Guess who’s my girlfriend.
Yeah, ten out of ten,
Yeah, it’s Jesus, she’s my girlfriend.
Wanna know who my boyfriend is?
No, nought out of ten.
Jesus ain’t a man, she’s my girlfriend.

Jesus is my Girlfriend.
Jesus is my Girlfriend.

I love her, my girlfriend. I love her, my girlfriend. I love her, my girlfriend. Jesus is my Girlfriend. Jesus is my Girlfriend. Jesus is my Girlfriend. Jesus is my, Jesus is my, Jesus is my Girlfriend.

I Didn’t Want to Wake You Up

“This is a sweet song she wrote for me the day I died spiritually”
The other night I saw you lying there,
I didn’t want to wake you up.
The next day I saw you lying there,
I didn’t want to wake you up.
The next evening I saw you lying there,
you hadn’t moved an inch.
The next day I saw you lying there,
I wished that I could wake you up.

Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.
Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.
Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.
Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.

The next day I shouted in your ear,
I wished that I could wake you up.
The next week I kicked you in the head,
I wished that I could wake you up.
Three days later, you were underground,
I wished that I could wake you up.
Three years later, you’re underground,
I wish that I could wake you up.

Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.
Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.
Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.
Sha la, sha la, sha la la la.

The other evening I had a dream,
you came into my head.
I tried to touch you,
I tried to kiss you,
I couldn’t wake you up.
My hands went through you,
I grabbed the pillow,
I cut the fucker up.
I really miss you,
I really need you,
I want to wake you up.
Five years later, you’re underground,
I wish that I could wake you up.
Ten years later, you’re underground,
I wish that I could wake you up.
Fifteen years later, you’re underground,
I wish that I could wake you up.
Thirty years later, I’m underground,
I wish that you could wake you up.

Dead Bird Sings

Take me in your arms again.
Wash me in your eyes.
Tie me to the house again.
Love me ’til love dies.
Love me ’til love dies.
Blame me for everything,
not just for the bad times.
Whispering sweet nothings in your ear,
just like a dead bird sings.
Look into my face again,
between us there’s a mile.
I can see a hole in the sky as wide as your smile,
as wide as your smile.
It’s not that you’ve gone away,
it’s that I’ve never met you,
but I wish that you’d come back to me,
just like the night turns blue, just like the night turns blue.

Take me in your arms again.
Blame me for everything.
Whispering sweet nothings in your ear,
just like a dead bird sings.
Just like, just like, just like, just like, just like a dead bird sings.
Just like, just like, just like, just like, just like a dead bird sings.
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me ’til love dies.
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me ’til love dies.
Watch my baby fly away. Watch my baby fly away. Watch her fly.

Atomic Soda

Sha la la la la la la la la la,
Sha la la la la la la la la la,
Sha la la la la la la la la la,
Sha la la la la la la la la la.
You asked me not to speak, then kissed me on the cheek
You said that I was wrong, you said that I was weak
I tried to think a while you said it was too long
and when I tried to smile you sung this pretty song:

Drink this baby, it’s atomic soda.
It’ll blow your mind back to how it was.
Drink this baby, it’s atomic soda.
It’ll blow your mind back to how it was.

Standing in the snow, icicles on your nose,
I felt what once was through your frozen clothes.
Standing on the shore, looking at the lake
My arms around you won’t stop you shake.

Drink this baby, it’s atomic soda.
It’ll blow your mind back to how it was.
Drink this baby, it’s atomic soda.
It’ll blow your mind back to how it was.

In the wintertime when the leaves are gone
I look at you and wonder what’s wrong.
You were so strong, I was so weak.
Now I can’t even get you to speak.

Drink this baby, it’s atomic soda.
It’ll blow your mind back to how it was.
Drink this baby, it’s atomic soda.
It’ll blow your mind back to how it was.
Back to how it was. Back to how it was.
Back to how it was. Back to how it was.
Back to how it was. Back to how it was.
Back to how it was. Back to, back to, back to how it was.
Back to how it was. Back to how it, back to how it, back to how it was.
Back to how it, back to how it, back to how it was.
Back to how it, back to how it, back to how it was.
Back to how it, back to how it, back to how it was.
Back to how it, back to how it, back to how it, back to how it was, was, was, was.

Sha la la la la la la la la la,
Sha la la la la la la la la la,
Sha la la la la la la la la la,
Sha la la la la la la la la la.

You’re Gorgeous

Y. O. U. R. E. G. O. R. G. E. O. U. S.
Remember that tank top you bought me.
You wrote ‘You’re Gorgeous’ on it.
You took me to your rented motor car and filmed me on the bonnet.
You got me to hitch my knees up and pulled my legs apart.
You took an instamatic camera and and pulled my sleeves around my heart.

Because you’re gorgeous I’d do anything for you.
Because you’re gorgeous our love will see us through.
Because you’re gorgeous I’d do anything for you.
Because you’re gorgeous I know you’ll get me through.

You said my clothes were sexy, you tore away my shirt.
You rubbed an ice-cube on my chest snapped me ’til it hurt.

Because you’re gorgeous I’d do anything for you.
Because you’re gorgeous our love will see us through.
Because you’re gorgeous I’d do anything for you.
Because you’re gorgeous I know you’ll get me through.

Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

You said I wasn’t cheap. You paid me twenty pounds.
You promised to put me in a magazine on every table in every lounge.

Because you’re gorgeous I’d do anything for you.
Because you’re gorgeous our love will see us through.
Because you’re gorgeous I’d do anything for you.
Because you’re gorgeous our love will see us through.
Because you’re gorgeous I know you’ll get me through. I know you’ll get me through.

Bad Shave

It’s time to come down form your spire,
Jesus come back you’re a liar.
I covered the church in fish wire.
I’ll know you’re here like hellfire.
(hellfire, hellfire, hellfire, hellfire.)
If we hear the trip in the aisle,
turn on the lights with a big smile,
but there’s no beautiful child,
it’s tealeaves with the roof tiles,
tealeaves with the roof tiles,
tealeaves with the roof tiles,
tealeaves with the roof tiles,
tealeaves with the roof tiles.

We go on home with the radio on.
Tune into paradise on longwave.
The millionth time the born again song
rings out like a bad shave.

Bad shave, bad shave, bad shave, bad shave.

It’s time to come down form your spire,
Jesus come back you’re a liar.
I’ll cover the church in fish wire.
We’ll know you’re here like hellfire.
(hellfire, hellfire, hellfire, hellfire.)

Cornershop

What is this beautiful thing we’ve found?
It’s so shiny, bright and round.
So I went into town and bought a little patch of ground, of ground.
And I put a shop on top and bought myself some stock
Oh my little cornershop.
I’m so happy I could scream
in my little store on the green
where everything is fine, where everything is fine, so fine, so fine.

I found some corrugated steel
and banged it to the window with my heel.
And now nobody’s going to get in after half past ten in the evening,
in the evening, in the evening, in the evening, in the evening,
in the evening, in the evening, in the evening, in the evening.

What is this beautiful thing we’ve found?
It’s so shiny, bright and round. (It’s so shiny, bright and round.)
So I went into town (So I went into town)
and bought another patch of ground, of ground.
Oh my second little, oh my third little oh my fourth little cornershop.
Oh my fifth little, oh my sixth little, oh my seventh little cornershop.

I’m so happy I could scream in my eighth little store on the green
where everything is fine, where everything is fine, so fine, so fine.

King Bing

Oh you ugly beautiful thing
Oh you, oh you, oh you.
You ugly beautiful thing I’m in between your head and your sting
unfolding out your wings one by one ’til you sing like king bing, you.
Oh you beautiful thing I’m in-between the ball beat ball of the king,
holding out no cheques, drinking Castrol not Becks
plugging in TV flex into my kecks
I dare you to change the fucking channel now. Puts!

Ugly beautiful thing I’m between your head and your sting
whirling out your wings one by one ’til you sing like king king bing
Ugly beautiful thing how I sing with your plastic wing on the tips of my broken wing.
Oh I’m so shy when you ride up so high and I cry because I can see the possibility that you might one day die.
Oh baby cool you know that thing, that thing you do that I love,
you keep doing it, doing it, doing it, and I can’t get over that thing.
That thing that you keep, keep doing, doing it, doing it, doing it drives me mad,
I love it, do it, do it, do it, do it, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!

Calm down, son. Sing the fucker like a baby.
Yeah mom, I’m bad.
You ain’t a bad son, son, you’re a fucking king.
You’re the son of God, you’re mine, I’m Mary, I made you,
I forgive you baby. Come to mummy!

Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom boom.
Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom boom.
Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom boom.
Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom bang.

King, the word king.
Son, I call you a king, you ain’t poor Paul King (?), you’re the king.

Ugly beautiful thing I’m between your head and your sting whirling out your wings one by one
until you sing like a king bing.
Ugly beautiful thing butt-a-bing, butt-a-boom.
You ain’t butter, you ain’t harry, you ain’t even the artist formerly known as Prince,
ah, ah, ah, you’re a king, you’re a king, you’re a king, you’re a king.

Ugly beautiful thing. Ugly beautiful thing.

See what all that means is that blue is really yellow, you grow old, you mellow, orange turns you on.
It’s rust, it’s things rotting.
It’s Mike and the Mechanics doing Celine Dion doing Sting.
Fony give away a hundred thousand CDs to Virgin, Our Price and all HMVs.
Wish I’d thought of it, it’s so cool,
it’s music for thick people, lowest common denomination,
all hidden under the steeple, roof tiles and a hatch with weeds,
big tits and tight behinds,
a guy on the hatch improvise and men who stack singles for £1.99.
Get the fucker in the chart, charge £3.99.
Take a cut off the supplier, off the artist, off the public, off the quick to buy and slow to think.
Hey that’s why. You know I know.
When will people realise that if you put shit on the dance set and spin it at 45 rpm, 120 bpm you’ll still hear it stink?
I’m out of here, whatever, amen.

Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da,
yeah yeah, yeah, yeah.
You ugly beautiful thing. You ugly beautiful thing. You ugly beautiful thing.
You ugly beautiful thing. You ugly beautiful thing. You ugly beautiful thing.
You ugly beautiful thing. You ugly beautiful, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautiful, beautiful, ugly, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautiful, ugly, beautiful, ugly, beautiful thing.

Oh. I’m getting into Jamiraquoi territory now man.
Fucking stop it dead now.
Shut the drummer up. Shove it up the arse!.
Saxophone – fuck off!
Yeah Be bop be lula be bop boo, yeah,
wiggy wiggy whack whack,
wiggy wiggy whack whack,
wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy whack.
Whack whack wiggy wiggy,
whack whack wiggy wiggy,
wig wig wig wig wig wig whack.

Bad jazz for white folks’ assholes.

You and Me

You and me, me and you.
You and me, me and you.
You and me, me and you.
You and me, me and you.
You and me and me and you and you and me and me and you and you and me,
me and you and me and me, you and you.
As long as we are one,
one of what I don’t care, one of what I don’t care,
one of what I don’t care, one of what I don’t care.
Zluvmeleffcleh in any language, baby, it means I love you.

I look in the mirror, I see right through.
I am beside myself when I’m inside you.
You make the sky green, you make the grass blue.
Oh baby it ain’t God I love it’s you.

Me and you, you and me.
Me and you and you and me and you.
You and me, me and you.
You and me and me and you and you and me and me and you and you and me,
me and you and me and me, you and you.

So complicated, so unexpurgated, underrated, over-sensationalised, under-materialised.
Oh such big words we don’t need them.
All we need is you and me.
All we need is you and me.
All we need is you and me.

Take a look in the mirror, I see right through.
I’m beside myself when I’m with you.
You make the sky green, you make the sun blue.
No baby it ain’t god I love it’s you.

45 and Fat

I’ll sing about love ’til I’m 45 and fat.
I’ll take almost anything, but I won’t take that.
You can tie me up in knots, but I’ll keep on coming.
You can take away my voice, but I’ll keep on humming.
C O C A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O L A

I’ll sing about love ’til I’m 45 and fat.
I’ll take almost anything but I won’t take that.
‘Til I turn blue, sing, singing about love.
I’ll take any old tat, but I won’t take that.

C O C A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O L A

I’ll sing about love ’til I’m 45 and fat.
I’ll take almost anything but I won’t take that.
We’ll teach the world to sing.
You all know the words, so sing along, sing along, sing along for a better world.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

C O C A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O C A C O L A C O L A

I’ll Sing about love.

Too Handsome to be Homeless

We are not cruel, hah, we are not crazy,
we steal cars because we’re lazy.
We are not risky, we are not bad,
we burn down houses to make us sad.
I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless.
I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless.

We are not famous, we are not known.
We break into hotels just to feel at home.
We cannot read and we cannot write.
We make out in cars then we set them alight.

I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless.
I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless.

We die for pleasure, we kill for fun.
We’ll give you children but we won’t make you come.
We kiss your wives and hug your sons.
Corkscrew your fingers around our no no good good tongues.

I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless.
I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless.
I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless, too handsome to be homeless.
I’m too handsome to be homeless, too spineless to be homeless.
I’m too handsome to be homeless. I’m too handsome to be homeless, too handsome to be ugly.
I’m too handsome to be homeless, too handsome to be homeless.

July

Way up in the clouds angels don’t fly,
big silver birds re-writing the sky.
Taxi and take off now, I close your eyes.
Look out of the window watch the ground die
I live all day to vacate the place that I love.
I work all day to leave the way that I live behind.

Way down on the ground people don’t fly.
But here we are at the airport like ladybirds in July.
Just like back at home I wish that you were here.
If I had a cellular phone I’d drown it in my beer

I live all day to vacate the place that I love.
I work all day to leave the way that I live behind, behind, behind, behind, behind, behind, behind, behind, behind.

I was once like you dreaming you were me,
locked inside my ugly head wishing you were free.
You were so different then but I was roughly the same.
Love was in your pretty head sex was on my brain.

I live all day to vacate the place that I love, ah ah ah.
I work all day to leave the way that I live behind.
I live all day to vacate the place that I love, ah ah ah.
I’ll slave all day to leave the way that I live behind, to leave the way I live behind, to leave the way I live behind,
to leave the way I live behind, to leave the way I live behind, behind, behind, behind, behind.

Baby Bird

Baby bird don’t you cry,
don’t you fly away from me.
Don’t you fly, don’t you fly.
La la la, la la la la , la la la, la la la la

I gift wrapped you a tiny tree
with golden leaves for you and me.
I set up a home in a beautiful nest.
You can lie here in my soft red chest.
My soft red chest. My soft red chest.

La la, la la la, la la, la la la, la la la, la la la, la la.

Baby, baby bird I’m so lonely
and the sky is so cold and unstable.
Baby bird don’t you cry,
don’t you fly away from me.
Don’t you fly, don’t you fly,
don’t you fly, don’t you fly.

Baby bird let me be a cage around your Christmas tree,
with you out there and me in here, never, never set me free.
Never, never set me free. Never, never let it be.
Baby bird, set me free, set me free, set me free, set me free, set me free, set me free,
baby bird, set me free, baby bird.