I have one small, teeny-weeny, insy-winsy, picolo-pokalo request for the birds outside my window in the morning.
shut the fuck up.
No, seriously. I have a cat and I’m not afraid to use her. I could be on my porch before you could say “tweet!” and be hurling that cat at a hight rate of speed towards your loud-ass-at-five-thirty-in-the-goddamn-morning heads.
Flock of feathered doom outside my window: “Tweet-isn’t the not yet lit morning twitter! wooooooooonderful twEEt!?”
Me: grumbles to self, stuffs pillows over head
Flock of even louder feathered twits, maybe they called their relatives to join them, outside my window: “I SAID….TWEET, TWITTER, BURBLE!!! wake up sleepy heads!”
Me: GROWLS gets up and goes in search of a weapon
Cat: Mrr? Mrr? Mrrrmmmph!
Flock of soon to be annihilated feathery shits: “more of the same, joyful noise unto the morning O boy, O rapture!”
Me: Not enough coffee in the world to put up with you lot. FLING!
Cat: hums Superman theme Mrrrowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwooooooooooooooo!
Flock of shocked bird meats on the wing: collectively “ooooooooooooohffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk!”
Me: heh heh heh
The Process 
I will totally trade your flock of birds for the hormonal cicada that was sitting on our window in the middle of the night.
Ugh, we have one of those. It seems the bird that warns all of the other birds in the neighborhood that morning is coming (in a few hours) sits JUST outside our bedroom window. It chirps loud enough to be heard for miles, I swear.
Closing the window helps, but morning air is crucial when the temps are hitting triple digits.
At the very least I’ve considered getting a squirt gun.