Where the Magpie Laid Down Nest

I wanna sing like the old master-magpie; I wanna croon in a way that tickles my nose and makes my hairs stand up stiff I wanna holler like my shoes were dusty and my heart was broke and the house I grew up in was only a dream between days of walking city-ward where I heard the lights were brighter and the skies were black-and-whiter and the folks all read the paper and hurried like they cared where they were going to. But if this was all a dream, then how come it felt so true, so brand new and so much stronger a fix than my home ever offered me? P'rhaps because this is where the magpie laid down his nest and sang to me.