A blackbird singing On a moss upholstered stone, 
Bluebells swinging, Shadows wildly blow. 

A song in the wood, A ship on the sea, 
The song for you, and the ship was for me. 

A blackbird singing, I hear in my troubled mind, 
Bluebells swinging, I see in a distant wind, 

But sorrow and silence are the wood's threnody, 
the silence for you, and the sorrow for me, 

Oh the sorrow, the sorrow's for me

And I have all I need, This song for you, 
And the memory for me

A blackbird singing...