Identity Crisis

I’m just a baby cuckoo
Sitting on a post
I’m not sure who I am yet
Or who I am the most

I’m just a baby cuckoo
Trying out my wings
And listening to that human there
And hearing how she sings

She sings just like my daddy does
In praise of all he sees:
The hill, the glen, the buttercup,
The falling stream, the trees

I’m just a baby cuckoo
I don’t know who I am
But I was raised by singers
In the shadow of Duncan Ban.