I watch the baby albatross
and see he’s all alone
while gentle breezes blow across
and keep his feathers blown.
He’s at a loss for what to do.
His mother came, away she flew.
He’s at a loss
He’s at a loss
To fly, he has no clue.
I watch the baby albatross
who never leaves his nest.
He looks around and all across,
his puzzled thoughts expressed.
Where are the others just like him?
There must be many more of them.
Where are the ones
Where are the ones
who left him there among the stems.
I watch the baby albatross,
and see him fall asleep.
While in his dreams, gives wings a toss,
above his back they sweep.
And soon he’ll be a grown-up bird
with all his birdy instincts stirred.
And soon he’ll be
And soon he’ll be
off on the wing, his nature spurred.
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