Oh, Just Walk On By!

Sandhill crane,

sandhill crane,

stay in your wooded-lane.

Don’t you know,

your kind is nearly extinct,

so you better think

before you cross the road,

you can’t survive a full carload.

Sandhill crane,

sandhill crane,

it appears you possess quite the bird brain,

but you’ve got one thing right,

of love, you don’t make light,

because, I hear, you mate for life,

so, I suppose, she must be some kind of a wife!

Walk casually across my lawn,

while I’m present or gone,

like you own the place,

and you’re not in any hurry or race.

Squawk and flap in the air, like a prehistoric creature,

every aspect of you, has such a dramatic feature!