This song was my husband's favorite as a little boy. In fact he wore out the 78 record he played it so much. Happy to see the "wings" verse we didn't know and that others have enjoyed this lovely lullaby. My children loved it and so do their children. This is the way his
little-boy-memory recalls the song.

A sweet little bird is a Weez Wump, he ends where it ought to begin.
He eats only moss from dried moonbeams, and sleeps on the head of pin.
He cries when he hears pretty music.
He could sing but he won't even try.
He wants you to stop what you're doing and sing him a sweet lullaby.
A Weez Whump is nice but he's lazy, He won't build a nest of his own.
He drinks only dew from the daisy, and cries when you leave him alone.
He cries when he hears pretty music.
He could sing but he won't even try.
He wants you to stop what you're doing and sing him a sweet lullaby.
             Weeez Wump. Weezy, Weezy Wump. Weezy, Weezy, Weeez Wump.