Little Robin

Little Robin

Their is a lonesome little Robin
On a tree top by my door he’d sing
He would call me little bird
I thought that was so absurd
He would play his guitar and sing to me
I would come to visit as time went by
He would be at the same place as usual
His chair at the end of the table
He would alway’s have somthing new to say
And also a new joke for each day
Solitair he’d play preparing his menu
As I gotten older he said
Youre no longer little bird
Youre Big Bird.

Robin Connon

Copyright ©2007 Robin Connon

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