No eyes are on the sparrow, eyes are on the sparrow He is singing anyway The lark keeps whistling his number, silly little number Although he’s being chased And no eyes are on the sparrow, eyes are on the sparrow How could that be the case? The lark keeps whistling his number, silly little number As if he isn't prey And they’re calling Maria Momma, Momma Maria They’re calling Maria No eyes are on the sparrow, eyes are on the sparrow I could’ve told you that The finch keeps gathering all the branches Ignoring all the chances the wind will blow it flat And they’re calling Maria Momma, Momma Maria They’re calling Maria