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Our Hayley had a budgie, she loved it very much
singing in his cage all day, his feathers soft to touch
then one day I found him, on the bottom of the cage
just a bundle of still feathers, it may have been old age

I knew how much our Hayley, would be sad and so distraught
so I went down to the pet shop, and another one I bought, 
I placed the new one in the cage, with tender loving care
she will not know the difference, when she hears it singing there

She was too young to know of death, and things that went away
and so we tried to shield her, she’d know all that one day
She came home that afternoon, and went straight to the cage
the budgie looked, but did not sing, and then it ran away

Something funny here she said, don’t know quite what to do
this budgie has green feathers, but this morning it had blue
A bit of quick fast talking, birds can moult, and feathers fall
the changing of the seasons, I really said it all

She pretended to believed me, and the story she would cop 
‘cause she was only four or five, and after all, I was her Pop

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