<♪> Come sing me a sweet song Like the birds in August Every year, they return (and) Maybe it's a mission A pilgrimage, a vision Brings them to my backyard It's the end of summer In washed out colors Ah-ooh Ah-ooh Ah-oo-oo-ooh... <♪> (now) I can hear you breathing The heavy sighs of thinking You disappear, the way you do (now) Round the world will spin, dear And fill your head with questions Following the satellites With no end, no beginning Just us birds singing Ah-ooh Ah-ooh Ah-oo-oo-ooh hey-yey-yeah-yeah... Too much summer Maybe you just need some thunder Too much summer Maybe you just need some thunder <♪> (so) Come sing me a sweet song Like the birds in August Every year, they return