Oh well I know you stroke the set-up baby of all the leaves up in the ground And I know your song is old but heavy as I see dry leaves fallin’ down oh With all this fever in my mind I could drown in your kerosene eyes oh You’re just a riddle in the sky Where do my bluebirds fly?              And as the early sigh of dawn will thunder I see you stir the fog around And when you find the voice and gears of sunset we’ll hear that high and lonesome sound oh And I will question every wind if they’ve gone through the glow of your eyes oh You’re just a riddle in the sky Where do my bluebirds fly? Where do my bluebirds fly? Oh well I know you stroke your feathers baby upon the ghosts along my trail And I know well I was sold and buried before I knew it was for sale oh With all this fever in my mind I should aim for your kerosene eyes Oh you’re just a target in the sky Where do my bluebirds fly?