Hmmbird

August nights and sugar slush mixed with a guitar yields-

The night's white breath
Hanging thick in mango leaves
Hides a humble hummingbird
Humming his tune for me

He don't use words or rhythm,
Nor a note to make that song
His wings make all his music,
And he's guided by his tongue

[break]

Oh, little hummingbird,
Fill your stomach as you fly.
Without schemes or plans, or even dreams,
You're still fully satisfied.

Teach me all your aimless ways.
Where does your ambrosia flow?
Is it in the buds you sip?
Oh, please, I beg you to show

Me.

[Chorus]
On a peaceful, misted morning
I can barely see my way,
But the beating of the bird's wings
Casts those doubting clouds astray

Now's the time to lose it all--
All your schemes, your plans, your dreams.
I'll just taste the wind
And fill up
On uncertainty.

So this birdie in a mango tree
Is the greatest teacher yet;
Teaching nothing for the future,
'cause the present's your best bet.

He taught me a lesson
That keeps me going on:
Never plan your life away,
And you'll always have a song.

So sing.

[Chorus]

[Solo]

[Chorus]

Sing with me little hummingbird.
Fly with me tonight. Fly right,
And you can fly with confidence
Into the darkest night.

So that's what I've been doing, and a talented guitarist helped me do it.
Apparently, a big black dog will soon play host to this guitarist, although said musician hates coffee.

Fin.
For now.