© 1971
I wrote the song about a toy jay (maybe it was a finch) that I found in the gutter outside my home. After writing the song I realized that it might be interpreted as ‘jay’ that’s short for ‘joint’ that’s short for a marijuana cigarette. Sure. Why not? When I wrote the song there might have been a little bit of him within me.
All birds sing in the forest
Except the toy jay in the florist
And nothing can stop the golden crop
So, I would say; if you buy the jay
At only ten cents you can’t go wrong
If you buy the jay; you get a song
Wind him up and let him go
Remember while he flies between you
If he’s high and you are low
There’s a little bit of him within you
Press your nose to the window
Feast your eyes on the floral rainbow
And if you have heard the tiny bird
Then listen; as his tune begins
And while the flowers dance to and fro
If you watch them close; you can see them grow
Sitting there by the flowers
The happy toy jay waits for hours
He watches the door for many more
He sings a tune; fills the little room
You can watch the flowers thrive
You can see the jay keeps the flowers alive
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