Owl

When an owl stands on the table And he looks you in the eye, And a butterfly goes waltzing through the bottom Of the sky, Oh, be subtle, be subtle as an oyster if You don't want that owl to cry. That Old owl has eaten rabbits, carried them squealing to His nest. He woke up all the owlets, let them eat Up all the rest. But now he lives on cornflakes, Smokes cigars and wears a vest. He makes his living hooting in the nightclubs Of the West. He uses one foot to stand on, Uses the other for a hat. And when he's tired of standing, He flies away Across the land. I left my old home in the forest. I could hear my old friends hoot goodbye. There were five of them then among the tall Trees of the night. Those big hoots came out in patterns overlapping In the sky, Making me listen, listen, listen 'til the Urge to fly would die. When the owl stands on the table and he Looks you in the eye, and a butterfly Goes waltzing through bottom of the sky, Oh, be subtle, be subtle as an oyster if You don't want that owl to cry.