11. Buffalo Bird
Music by Brent Lewis, Lyrics by Perry Crawford
"Please pass the biscuits," I said to my wife,
Reflecting a bit on the love of my life,
Who lifted the platter with nary a word,
To offer one first to her Buffalo Bird.
The bird on her shoulders was bigger than mine;
Mine weighed eighty pounds; hers was ninety and nine,
And it gobbled two biscuit as quick as a wink,
Then squawked very rudely, demanding a drink.
I sat there and patiently waited my turn,
Until I felt droplets that started to burn,
And cursed at myself for forgetting to buy
More Buffalo aprons to keep our backs dry.
Don't scowl at your bird my wife said to me,
"It's all your own fault, so let the bird be."
And I sat there thinking about what she said.
"It's all your own fault!" echoed in my head.
The Buffalo Birds were created to ride
As companions to Buffalo, perched on their hide.
But man had killed off all the Buffalo race,
And justice demanded that man take their place.
Their wings are too tiny, and so are their feet;
Their purpose in life is to sleep and eat.
Their chicks land on children and stay there for life;
The two grow together through triumph and strife.
A glance at my watch told me I had to leave,
So I wiped off my neck with a length of my sleeve,
And I ducked as I passed with my bird through the door,
And waved to my neighbors and birds that they bore.
Thank you Detroit for convertible cars,
My bird loves the sun, at night sees the stars
And because they are perched on our shoulders to stay,
We make birds happy and keep them that way.