The Song of the Grounded Bird


United States
28° 5' 47.058" N, 81° 55' 14.6712" W

Fly away, fly away my pretty little bird

Why won't you fly away?

Your wings are torn, batered, and broke, why won't you fly away, way

Why wont you fly away?


My wings ain't torn nor battered or broke but bound and tied with string,

So here I shall lay 'till that string rots away and then I'll fly away home, home

And then I'll fly away home


But should my wings fall first, before this curse-ed string, then by foot I swear I'll walk, walk

So be it Lord, I'll walk


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