I am a canary,
A bird, I am, I am
I live with a widow
next door,
Who’s been married seven times before.
In her rocking chair she sits,
Smoking her fat Cuban cigar.
I am a canary,
A bird, I am, I am

She keeps me
In a cage,
With no room to fly.
So I pluck my feathers
off my breast,
She expects me to stand on the perch
and sing and sing.
Cause I am a canary,
A bird, I am, I am

She bought me a ladder,
A mirror and a bell,
When she sips whisky,
She goes stir crazy.
I hope she does not expect me to climb the ladder
or preen my feathers in front of the mirror
or ring the bell.
Cause I am a canary,
A bird, I am, I am

I hope she drinks
more whisky
than the night before
and be crazy as can be.
I expect her to jump out the window
fall down seven floors
and be dead evermore.
Cause I am a canary,
I sing, I sing and I sing.