Just outside my window
There sits a tiny bird.
It gives a tiny cherr-up
That hardly can be heard.
A small white-throated sparrow
With perky streaked crest.
Today he sits and preens himself
To look his very best.
Although he doesn’t show it
It’s cold outside today.
That’s why I sit and wonder,
How can he be so gay?
But he just sits and fluffs himself
To ward off all the cold.
About this chilling weather,
Does he have to be told?
It seems to me that if he knew
He’d try to make it better.
If he’d just come and sit with me
To get out of the weather,
I’m sure he’d like it better here
Then out there in the cold.
About this chilling weather
Does he have to be told?
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