When we talk virtue
It doesn't seem all that bad
If I keep talking cool
The future turns out as the past
Passed the point of making sense
I've got it
The last virtue I heard
Was something 'bout the song-singing birds
Or something 'bout bird is the word
Words are all I've heard
No meaning for this now
Birds don't know the words
It's a sweet song anyhow
And I could sing what you say all day
We resolve, we resolve in our own way
And you refuse to fade away
I long to hear you say
Where do we go from here?
When we talk virtue
It doesn't seem all that bad
If I keep talking cool
The future turns out as the past