Fly little birds, fly.
Rest your little feet and take to the sky.
Our land is dry and your kin we fry.
Besides we all envy your wings and wish we could fly.
Fly little birds!
The hunters are at bay,
and by their rifles you will surely die...
but only if you stay.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 4:49 AM UTC
Fly little birds, fly.
Rest your little feet and take to the sky.
Our land is dry and your kin we fry.
Besides we all envy your wings and wish we could fly.
Fly little birds!
The hunters are at bay,
and by their rifles you will surely die...
but only if you stay.