Oh blackbird , from the fairest of places, why dost thou call to me?
On nights o’ temperance I ask to myself ; why thy call, is the melody of mine heart.
On days o’ intellectual exchange , a mutiny of the mind takes place at thy first sight.
My ideals are pulled betwixt my two halves , one o’ soul and one o’ mind.

O’er the mounds o’ time dost these callings increase.
With each passing minute pieces o’ myself cozen and war o’er thee.
Resolute then, it must be that I combine into one whole once more.

Thou sharpest of eyne , bespeckled in a coat o’ the deepest of blacks,
I verdantly petition for a revelation.
Dost thou hold a capacity to save the two hearts o’ mine selves?
Oh beautiful blackbird, willst thy hear mine ballads?
Oh beautiful blackbird, willst thy answer mine calls?
Oh beautiful blackbird, may mine hands feel the softness of thy feathers?

Oh beautiful blackbird , willst thy heart answer mine?