A handsome looking fellow of dark, white, pink and blue
He doesn’t cheat on his partner and to her he remains true.
Though not the finest songster his voice one can’t mistake
A sort of a wheezy whistle on hedgerow at daybreak
He sings in Spring and Summer but never in Winter or Fall
But his plainer looking wife is songless she never sings at all.
Devoted to each other they make for a loving pair
Their dainty cup shaped nest of fine root fibres is always lined with hair
The female lays four to five brown spotted pale eggs their nest quite hard to find
Though on low branch of coniferous tree or in hedgerow for to build they seem inclined.
The orchardist does not like them for him they do not please
In Spring they raid his orchard and eat the blossom buds on his fruit trees
But when wild birds are hungry for to live they have to eat
And the blossom buds on fruit trees to the bullfinch taste so sweet.
The bullfinch he is faithful until his dying day
He only has one paartner and true to her he stay
Though not the finest songster most ornitholigsts agree
That few indeed if any look as beautiful as he.