White Owl
Bertie Blackman
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My white owl
He has so many faces
Inside in different places
He wants to go
My white owl
His feathers are so icy
Soft but sharp
They cut through anything at all
He loves to run
He loves to run
He loves to run
My white owl
He hates to fly
But he was born to run
My white owl
He's not a bedtime story
You will never see him
Soaring over you
My white owl
He is a wide-eyed hero
Of the night
Catching with hunger
Every breath in sight
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He loves to run
He loves to run
He loves to run
My white owl
He hates to fly
But he was born to run
He loves to run
He loves to run
He loves to run
My white owl
He hates to fly
But he loves to run
He hates to fly
But he was born to run