There was once a young bird, he was plain as could be
He looked like any other, that much I could see
And I'd written him off, but then I was proved wrong
The day that this bird started singing his song
And a freedom I'd not felt since I was a boy
But then I became worried that the bird would not stay
So I cornered him, caged him, locked him away
I said, "Sing me the song you sang moments ago
It made me feel happy and made my heart flow."
And there was not a sound coming out from his beak
So I tried to entice him, to get him to sing
But he aalways looked sad though he had everything
And as the weeks passed he looked worse everyday
He seemed to be dying, yet still I would say
"Sing me that old sosng that you sang before
It's been so long I don't know anymore
And if it had words tell me what would they be."
And then the time came when the bird passed away
But he told me the words of his song on that day
It was a song about freedom, what I hold so true."
"I'd sing you the song but my freedom is gone
And now I am dying, but soon I'll journey on
to a place where those sweet notes will be heard again.
And my song about freedom I'll sing for you then."
I said "Forgive me