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#7 Chick in the Fold

The morning sun's hedging the hazy horizon.
You're nuzzlin' and nudgin' my lazy blue eyes,
and to hell with the cold, I'm a chick in the fold of your wing.

Fragrant like heather, can't break it or buy it,
with warm covert feathers to cover and quiet,
you have and you hold me, the chick in the fold of your wing.

But there'll come a thing that I want,
I'm a desperate debutante,
eager to sing, eager to move, eager to prove.
I'll fall from the nest like the rest,
'cause I'm too warm, too proud, too blessed...
but this is the best, this is the best, this is the best...

Adjacent, adjustin', and ready for flight,
I'm restless and rustlin' in spite of the height,
but could I be so bold, could I fly from the fold of your wing?

Like the shape of the moon, I can't hope it'll last.
Not too late or too soon, but so much and so fast,
it'll crack every mold, bring me back to the fold of your wing.
Whether sick, whether old, I'm the chick in the fold of your wing.

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By becoming a patron, you'll instantly unlock access to 45 exclusive posts
10
Audio releases
104
Images