The Song of the Crow.
By Maurice Stonehill Arr. by Joe Nathan
Published 1905 by The American Advance Music Co.

[Verse 1].
Sang Billy crow, in the early morn,
Caw, Caw, Caw!
To Missie crow on a stack of corn,
Caw, Caw, Caw!

But Miss crow's reply was a deep, sad sigh,
As she said, "I've had enough.
No flutt'ring maid likes a serenade,
Sung in tones so harsh and rough;

But the frown that she wore
disappeared once more,
When Billy to her softly said:

"I'm no gaily feathered nightingale,
That can charm you with his song,
I'm no silver tongue Canary,
That can sing the whole day long;

But the love of which I sing to you,
is a love without a flaw;
Tho' the burden of my ditty's only
Caw, Caw, Caw!"

[Verse 2]
"True, said Miss crow, there are birds I know,
Caw, Caw, Caw!
Whose piercing notes have a warming glow,
Caw, Caw, Caw!

But the song you sing has the proper ring,
Tho' you have no songbird's art.
I must confess that it does impress,
For it comes straight from the heart,

I don't mind telling you." Billy took his cue,
For he sang his song once again: