In the woods deep north
There is a cottage forlorn
And there burns a hearth
The only thing it's adorn
And on the corner sits a candle
Alone with a small blue flame
And the heat doesn't dwindle
Puts the flame to shame
But it burns and burns
Only to melt to wax
In the end time is slack
Till the cottage is ash and black
And that is a candle with ego scorn
What happens along envious bourn
But to the woods in east
Lies a treehouse neat
Looks like a hyacinth cist
And to the eye it's a feast
And inside sings a bluebird
With the harmonies of a dove
All the pain in the world
Melt like velvet love
They quench and quench
And make melodies
In the end they find peace
Till the treehouse blooms in daisies
And that is a bluebird's tale to you
Found the dove and left being blue
