The call of Nature is an amazing thing
The migrant birds always fly home for the Spring
For to breed from their wintering grounds far away
In the place where they first looked on the light of day
O'er mountains and oceans from Lands overseas
They bravely fly against the stiffening breeze
With the map of the World in each tiny brain
They make their way home despite storm and rain
Despite exhaustion in their marathon flight
They fly through the day and they fly through the night
The birds of prey who try to kill them to eat are circling in the sky
But for them 'tis home or death as onwards they do fly
To breed in the Homeland the migrant birds take to wing
The call of Nature is an irrestible thing.