Snow-Hen of Austerlitz

They say not far away, in fact upon that hill,
they said that there's a little girl there still.
She wasn't raised like the other kids,
Miss Lynn, the snow-hen of Austerlitz.

The mothers bind 'em, keep 'em birds as pets,
but her baby is a human, she forgets.
In a tiny wire pen, that little girl still sits,
Miss Lynn, the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
She must be ten, or eleven now.
I heard she's pretty,
But she don't have all the wits.
She is the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
Not having really wings nor beak,
she never learned to walk or speak.
To the child, the mother never says a word,
to communicate, this little girl, she chirps like a bird!
All the birds around,
they taught the little girl their language.
When she's not understood,
she starts to get real angry,
so she waves her hands
around just like they were her wings.
Oh, but when she's happy
you should hear her sing!
I'll leave the cage door open,
we'll see how far she gets.
She's known as the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
Kept like a pet,
in an old hen coop.
Her mother didn't beat her
and she gave her food, still pitiful
no care shown,
but it's the life of the snow-hen of Austerlitz
A skinny thing with brittle glass-like moans
Was it wind in the trees
or the snow-hen's moan?
From perch to perch in that attic she flits,
Miss Lynn, the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
She must be ten, or eleven now.
I heard she's pretty,
but she don't have all the wits.
She is the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
I'll leave the cage door open,
we'll see how far she gets.
She's known as the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
She must be ten, or eleven now.
I heard she's pretty,
but she don't have all the wits.
She is the snow-hen of Austerlitz.
I'll leave the cage door open,
we'll see how far she gets.
She's known as the snow-hen of Austerlitz.