I was woken up in the early morning, after my flight By a sound I could not grasp, I did not recognize Running like water, two toned, and tangled Like a briar holding many sounds, all at once "It was a magpie", you told me as you handed me a coffee The black and white bird you see in city parks And you pointed out the window, looking straight in at me A black and white bird sitting on the fence I thought about the man who called it a magpie Confronted by the great expanse of his ignorance He wanted to name it, to detain it forever in that small phrase It seemed like a shame to give it a name But then again, I don't understand anything the way I'm supposed to I drag every river for meaning, scrape my hand on every ceiling I never know what to say or not say What to honour or betray in any given day ♪ But I never got used to the sound of the magpie It set my skin on edge, called like a child Like a dog, like the wind caught in a fence When we talked, it interrupted And I would never know what it meant