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...