High Flying Bird

You wore a little cross of gold around your neck I saw it as you flew between my reason Like a raven in the night time when you left Mm-hmm, I wear a chain upon my wrist that bears no name You touched it and you wore it And you kept it in your pillow all the same My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms I thought myself her keeper She thought I meant her harm She thought I was the archer A weather-man of words But I could never shoot down (My) my high-flying bird The white walls of your dressing room are stained in scarlet red You bled upon the cold stone like a young man Hmm, In the foreign field of death "Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful?" is all I heard you say You never closed your eyes at night and learned to love daylight Instead you moved away My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms I thought myself her keeper She thought I meant her harm She thought I was the archer A weather-man of words But I could never shoot down (My) my high-flying bird has flown from out my arms I thought myself her keeper She thought I meant her harm She thought I was the archer A weather-man of words But I could never shoot down (My) my high-flying bird My high-flying, high-flying bird My high-flying, high-flying bird My high-flying, high-flying bird My high-flying, high-flying bird