Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Fly through the storm to me.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Find your way to me.
And if you call upon me,
I shall not take too much,
And I shall not leave too little.
For I am a humble thing.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
A quick thing you be.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Find a place to perch happily.
I am a smaller thing,
With bigger wings.
And I am the color of crimson,
For I bring you the morning sun.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Grow yourself legs and walk with me.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Get yourself a voice, and tell me.
I am one for flying high,
And I belong in the sky.
Do not look at the ground,
For I am not one who resides there.
And at the times when you need me most,
Is when I am most silent.
For I count on you to hear me singing,
Even when the rain is quite loud.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
You are a delicate thing.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Fly from my palms now,
And go to someone else who needs you,
More than I now do.
"Hope is a delicate thing,
Flitting like a songbird from one soul to another.
Treat it kindly.
Or it shall cease it's soft singing."