[Intro: brass riff, guitar strum] Easter Monday on the hill when the trade wind blows Uncle Ferdie with the paper and the paste pot, and everybody knows [Verse 1] Every Lent on his front step with a coconut broom He picks the straightest pointers out and trims them in his room Tissue paper red and yellow, green as a parrot's wing A pot of paste, a razor blade, and a fat ball of string He says a kite is just a question that you ask the open sky And every child up on the hill gets one with their name to fly He never charges a penny and he never takes a bow He only says hold it gentle and I'll show you how [Chorus: adult group answers] Kite string, kite string, pay it out slow The higher it climbs, the more you let go Hold it like a promise and then give it to the breeze Uncle Ferdie laughing when it tangles in the trees Kite string, kite string, singing in the blue Every tug is a hello from the paper back to you [Verse 2] The year he built a mad bull with a hummer on the spine It moaned so loud on Good Friday that the dogs all howled in time The church ran out to the yard to see if the Lord was passing by And the pastor dropped his Bible looking at a paper sky It dove into the market and it snatched the fishman's hat And Ferdie paid him back in kites and that was the end of that Now every child who ever lost a kite up in the wire Got a second one from Ferdie, and a third, and a fourth, and higher [Chorus: adult group answers] Kite string, kite string, pay it out slow The higher it climbs, the more you let go Hold it like a promise and then give it to the breeze Uncle Ferdie laughing when it tangles in the trees Kite string, kite string, singing in the blue Every tug is a hello from the paper back to you [Verse 3] This year his hands are shaking and the razor will not stay The paper tears, the paste goes dry, he puts the sticks away So the children that he taught came marching to his door With pointers, paste, and tissue like he showed them years before They built him one in yellow with his own name down the side They argued every bridle knot and tied the tail with pride Then they walked him up the hill, every child in a line Put the string inside his fingers and said Uncle, it is time [Brass Break: trumpet and trombone, steel pan underneath] [Bridge] He let it out a little and the yellow caught the sun He let it out a little more and said now look, everyone Don't pull it when it's dancing, let it wander when it dips The sky is not a fish, my children, and your hand is not a whip The whole trick is the letting go, he told them with a grin Then he passed the string to Keisha and the wind came pouring in [Final Chorus: small children's choir answers "higher", very low] Kite string, kite string, pay it out slow (higher) The higher it climbs, the more you let go (higher) Hold it like a promise and then give it to the breeze (higher) Uncle Ferdie laughing in a lawn chair under the trees Kite string, kite string, singing in the blue (higher) Every tug is a hello from the old man back to you [Outro: brass riff, guitar strum] Easter Monday on the hill when the trade wind blows Uncle Ferdie in a lawn chair and a yellow tail that goes and goes
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