Birds Of St. Marks Lyrics - Jackson Browne

The Birds Of St. Marks-Jackson Browne 

Oh how sadly sound the songs the queen must sing of dying 

A prisoner upon her throne of melancholy sighing 

If she could see her mirror now 

She would be free of those who bow and 

Scrape the ground before her feet 

Silently she walks among her dying midnight roses 

Watches as each moment goes that never really know us 

And so it seems she doesn't care 

If she has dreams of no one there 

Within the shadows of her room 

But all my frozen words agree, and say it's time to 

Call back, all the birds I sent to 

Fly behind her castle walls, and I'm 

Weary of the nights I've seen 

Inside these empty halls 

Wooden lady turn and turn among my weary secrets 

And wave within the hours past and other empty pockets 

Maybe we've found what we have lost 

When we've unwound so many crossed entangling 

Misunderstandings; but 

All my frozen words agree and say it's time to 

Call back all the birds I sent to 

Fly behind her castle walls, and I'm 

Weary of the nights I've seen 

Inside these empty walls 

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