I was a dying fire Can you hear these fragile words It's sad but that's the beauty of it There's a goodness in this heart And for all the tea in China All the liquor I could drink There's no persuading No one to pull me screaming Burning from this heap My hands are little hammers And they hammered out these words Pounding ghost on distant mountain To the angel love the goat And my heart is made of sparrows Mad birds from different spheres And of course it never happened Never whipsers in my ears I never could be anything But hurt in pain and fear And my heart is made of sparrows Mad birds from different spheres