blackbird hanging on a wirencan see down into the streetnsings a song about desirenand whether men or angels are born with bigger wingsnuntil we take the place of the machines,nuntil we take the place of the machines...nnlonely lover, just a childnlies in bed but he can't sleepnhe'll just watch his chest go up and downnsays he don't know if you can exactly call it breathing (but there's got to be a reason why his heart won't stop beating.)nuntil we take the place of the machines,nuntil we take the place of the machines...nnkeep singingnuntil we take the place of the machines,nuntil we take the place of the machines...nnsingle blackbird on a wirensees the cars crash in the streetnsays this town could use a street lightnbut it don't do much good if it won't change from red to greennuntil we take the place of the machines,nuntil we take the place of the machines...