Well, I saw a bird today --- flying from a bush and the wind blew it away. And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly at play --- velvet veined. I saw it burn. With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew right on by. And, taking in the morning, I sang --- O Requiem. (REST THE SAME) Well, my lady told me, ``Stay.'' I looked aside and walked away along the Strand. But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred close behind the taxi stand. Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window. Fading in the traffic; watched her go. And taking in the morning, heard myself singing --- O Requiem. Here I go again. It's the same old story. Well, I saw a bird today --- I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.