For days upon days I stare at my cage bird.
Such a pretty and innocent bird.
It had yellow feathers and white on his tummy.

My oh my what a pretty bird.
For days upon days I taken care of my bird.
I found it with a broken wing and it could not fly.

I was careful to my bird, and feed it bird feed.
Though the bird would never healed.
I was so thankful to find such beauty in the bird.

The bird would sing to me when I was lonely.
It would fluff its feather in agreement with me.
My bird tilts his head at me like he knew what I said.

Oh my oh my my little bird was my light in my darkest hour.
Though when the truth came in, I didn't know what to do!
Oh the truth that truth hurt so much.

That when I came home to take care of my bird.
I sat and I cried for days upon days, my little bird gone!
In the biggest, ugliest truth of them all.

There nothing in this life except for death.
In those darkest of my hours, I wish for myself to be like my bird.
The innocent and beauty like my bird had.

The truth hurts like a broken wing that would never be healed.
The wound so terrible you would never fly again,
The pain so terrible I just can’t bear!

I sat in my chair, staring at my dead, cage bird.
So I found I was like, in my last final hours,
I was like my mad little bird, always wanting to be cage.