Of all of the birds I've seen.
Of all of those bright of wing.
Of all of those decked out like peacocks;
I'd be brown and uninteresting.
Oh-oh grovel song,
I'm sorry that I strung you along.
I'm sorry that the bird flu got you.
And I was in the wrong.
Of all of the birds you saw.
Of all of that pretty flock.
Of all of them strung like peacocks
It was me that you liked of them all.
Oh-oh grovel song,
I'm sorry that I strung you along.
I'm sorry that the bird flu got you.
And I was in the wrong.
I'm sorry the sickness got you.
But that's what birds'll do to you.
I'm sorry I couldn't cure you.
I'm sorry I gave you bird flu.
Oh-oh grovel song,
I'm sorry that I strung you along.
I'm sorry that the bird flu got you.
And I was in the wrong.
Oh-oh grovel song,
I'm sorry that I strung you along.
I'm sorry that the bird flu got you.
And I was in the wrong.
Oh-oh grovel song,
I'm sorry that I strung you along.
I'm sorry that the bird flu got you.
And I was in the wrong.
