I can't help but love those poor little things
with their dirty feathers and their weakened wings
I can't help but love those terible things
they'll peck you in they eye and they'll lie and they'll lie to you
and i try to pick them up
with sticks and a bundle of string
they'll ruffle their feathers and flap their wretched wings
then they'll fall to the ether and never be heard of again
then they'll fall to the ether and never be heard of again
well I may be a woman with my feet flat to the floor
i may be a woman but i ain't nothing more
I try to keep my head up
try to hold onto my pride
but my eyes they are searching
and my hands they are reaching out
and my heart it is yearning
yearning for the those terrible terrible wretched little things
yearning for those terrible terrible lying things
I can't help but love those poor little things,
with their dirty feathers and their weakened wings
I can't help but love those terrible things,
they'll peck you in they eye and they'll lie and they'll lie to you