Ah, the beauty of the night and the beauty of you, so . . .

Ah, the beauty of the night and the beauty of you, so . . .
Please, just leave me alone. . .
Yes, I’m still here. And they are playing my song.
Hey, McCartney, if you had wings like this you could have been something more than a lonely former bug.
Where am I going . . .
As my friend Kermit always sings:
Hey, Maverick, they’re playing our song down there.
Walking on air is easy. Come up and try it with me.
Never mind those red-bellied birds, I am the best looking woodpecker in this wetland. And I sing