Misery Loves Company - The Robin and the Magpie

One morning in the springtime dew,
Into my garden's tree,
A robin flew.
She sang with such a pride I knew,
Her song would bring a gift,
A love that grew.
Soon in branches 'bove the flowers,
Her nest and heart were full,
Her life empowered.
The purest song that she did sing,
Unto her mate she called,
Their love to bring.
One evening in the winter air,
Above the rafters flew,
A magpie fair.
Her heart did long for trinkets bright,
A-glowing and bejewelled,
Her heart's delight.
And to her kin she would return,
Her brightest treasure she
Would shortly learn.
In her warm nest of finery,
There with her proudest mate
In tallest tree.
All summer long they blossomed there,
'Twixt branches high up and
The skies a-fair.
Until the chills upon the air
Return unto the nest
And branches bared.
But with the frosted breeze away
Her mate did fly, in search
Of skies less grey.
And little robin left behind,
Collected all she could
For winter time.
There in her nest of finery,
The finest nest that she
Did ever see.
She grew her trove, silver and gold,
A greater weight than
The home could hold.
The branches bending to the floor
Unnoticed by the bird,
She searched for more.
Until a cat who spied her, lo!
Unto her heavy home
With her did go.
Her children with her mate went by,
Away to skies anew
And fresh mates spry.
For heavy though her heart did hang,
The sting of winter brings
The hunger pang.
But berries left too long alone
Do brew a poison in
Them of their own.
All winter long her heart was warmed,
By tainted berries
Her heartbreak scorned.
Upon her next departer crept
That cunning feline,
On her nest it leapt.
As greed her caring did consume,
Deep in the belly of
The cat made room.
Down went her offspring and her mate,
And treasures tumbled down
To muddy fate.
And now she sings a mourning song,
Into the hollow night
For love long gone.
But by the spring she found no sport,
In song and soaring high,
Or males to court.
Her solace now in berried haze,
Became the subject of
Her wasted days.
O little robin, what became / O' proud magpie
Of mate and voice and flight / Where will you fly
In springtime's frame? / To mask your shame?
And when the winter chill does fall / How far you fall,
Will you be waiting still / Yearning,
For berries ill, / Yearning still,
Or lost lover's call?

Written by:
Riley Miller, Rebecca Evelyn, Lottie Copeland, Ana Fae, Hannah Savage-Lonsdale, Olivia Cannon

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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