Paul Simon

 Who will love a little sparrow,
Who's travelled far, and cries for rest?
"Not I," said the oak tree.
"I won't share my branches with no sparrow's nest;
And my blanket of leaves won't warm her cold breast."

Who will love a little sparrow,
And who will speak a kindly word?
"Not I," said the swan.
"The entire idea is utterly absurd;
I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard."

And who will take pity in his heart,
And who will feed a starving sparrow?
"Not I," said the golden wheat.
"I would if I could but I cannot I know;
For I need all my grain to prosper and grow."

Who will love a little sparrow,
Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the Earth.
"For all I've created returns unto me;
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be."

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