fucking birds

Standard

Birds birds birds

It seems I am always a bird

Whatever is written,

That’s what is heard,

Just birds, birds, birds.

Maybe they see myself flying?

Maybe they hear my voice sing?

Maybe they see me as broken?

Ground-bound and flopping and nursing a wing.

But Birds birds birds

Whatever be written

It’s always just birds

Tiny birds, birds, birds.

Sometimes in gilt-wrought out cages

Sometimes they’re soaring above

Sometimes they write out their rages

And others it’s tender and painful in love.

But still birds birds birds

Whatever is written

That’s all that is heard

Stupid birds, birds, birds.

But I’m not dumb-covered in feathers

And I’m not so tiny and frail

Don’t tell me it’s you I can’t weather

Cause warnings like that have old-gotten stale

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