Quiet, chattering swallow

Quiet, chattering swallow,

or if I get my hands on you

I'll tear the feathers from your wing

or cut out your tongue.

In the morning, your endless cackling

makes my head turn.

You can sing all day,

all evening, all night

in my chimney if you want,

but in the morning don't wake me up

when I'm dozing

with my Cassandra in my arms.