Written on banjo when things looked pretty dark, one night.

The night was dark as deep as sin
It seemed that it would never end
I leaned my head against the wall
That’s when I heard the first bird call
A pure and simple melody
A few clear notes of what might be
A song so fleeting, here and gone
The promise of the coming dawn

Oh little bird, How can she tell?
Down in this darkness where no light dwells
Some hope she feels, when I feel none
How can she know the day will come?
Sometimes it seems the world stands still
Darkness reigns and always will
When there’s no hope left at all
You just might hear the first bird call
And though the night goes on and on
The world is turning towards the dawn
And when there’s no hope left at hall
We wait to hear the first bird call
When there’s no hope left at all
You just might hear the first bird call

© Bill Harley, all rights reserved. Reprints with permission only.