We fought for so long
it destroyed my own song.
And people want to know
where did the music notes go?

I let the birds go
so they could sing out in the open.
But you came in with your gun
and shot down the turtledoves.

I saw the feathers explode
they fell down like soft snow.
Splattered with red
from careless paint brush strokes.

You left me in the field
surrounded by red snow.
It's partly my fault
since I was the one who let them go.

I turn my head towards you
and you're pointing your finger.
But I'm not the one
holding the gun.

I took one feather in my hand
and lamented the loss.
The sky is grey with no hope
but I know where the music has gone.

*I know where the music has gone