The first of September and the calendar Spring
In the gray of the dawning the blackbird does sing
And the bird who does sing every day of the year
The warbling song of the magpie so pleasant to hear
Pink blossoms adorn the leaf budding fruit trees
On a cool and dry morning of seven degrees
And in a voice that is familiar to many and familiar to me
The magpie lark sings his familiar pee wee
Many birds are nest building the urge in them to breed
For the survival of their species they are the seed
In a few months from now their young will take to wing
The workings of Nature is an amazing thing
And on the first of September in the dawning gray
The blackbird is singing to welcome the day.
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