The bird was hatched upon a tree;
a bird with a broken wing unfixable.
All he wanted was to be free;
but for that he needed to fly.
He wanted to get higher up the tree,
but he knew that he was unfixable;
he knew he needed help to be free;
he knew he needed help to fly.
There was a weak branch on the tree;
a weakening branch that was unfixable.
The branch soon broke free,
and the bird, still alone, could not fly.
The bird fell from the tree;
his faith in friends now unfixable.
He knew now he’d never be free –
nobody would help him fly.
He watched his friends on the tree,
who had dismissed him as unfixable.
They left him; they wanted to be free.
They didn’t care that he couldn’t fly.
He stares at the empty tree now,
his shattered heart and bones unfixable.
Through Death’s mercy, he is now free.
So off, and off, he sings as he can finally fly.