| Whose chickens are those in my yard? | |
| They pick at every shiny thing, | |
| Stitching down this earth so cold and hard, | |
| Low and tight across my wings, | |
| And when they're calling over me, | |
| Their unholy, fitful song … | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please carry me along | |
| My bones they rumble and time will shift | |
| On every plan I have laid, | |
| Clouds will crack and spill, decent and lift, | |
| Sharpen this light into a blade | |
| And split the limb beneath me | |
| That holds me off the ground … | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please come and take me down | |
| Nothing is now as it appears | |
| And there is no law speaks to that, | |
| Just and ocean's roar between my ears | |
| And down here deep inside my hat | |
| Where broken ships still drift and pine | |
| For some new world reverie … | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please come discover me |
| Whose chickens are those in my yard? | |
| They pick at every shiny thing, | |
| Stitching down this earth so cold and hard, | |
| Low and tight across my wings, | |
| And when they' re calling over me, | |
| Their unholy, fitful song | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please carry me along | |
| My bones they rumble and time will shift | |
| On every plan I have laid, | |
| Clouds will crack and spill, decent and lift, | |
| Sharpen this light into a blade | |
| And split the limb beneath me | |
| That holds me off the ground | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please come and take me down | |
| Nothing is now as it appears | |
| And there is no law speaks to that, | |
| Just and ocean' s roar between my ears | |
| And down here deep inside my hat | |
| Where broken ships still drift and pine | |
| For some new world reverie | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please come discover me |
| Whose chickens are those in my yard? | |
| They pick at every shiny thing, | |
| Stitching down this earth so cold and hard, | |
| Low and tight across my wings, | |
| And when they' re calling over me, | |
| Their unholy, fitful song | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please carry me along | |
| My bones they rumble and time will shift | |
| On every plan I have laid, | |
| Clouds will crack and spill, decent and lift, | |
| Sharpen this light into a blade | |
| And split the limb beneath me | |
| That holds me off the ground | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please come and take me down | |
| Nothing is now as it appears | |
| And there is no law speaks to that, | |
| Just and ocean' s roar between my ears | |
| And down here deep inside my hat | |
| Where broken ships still drift and pine | |
| For some new world reverie | |
| Odetta, Odetta | |
| Please come discover me |
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