On a rather lonesome autumn day I drifted through the trees,
Wandering round the forest floor with a soreness in my knees.
I'd come out to this quiet place in need of healing time,
For those moments I'd let slip away and walked the painful line.

I sat down on a dying log when the leaves began to fall.
For what seemed like forever I just tried to fight it all,
Every hurt and wound I'd caused, every fall from grace,
That led me down the jagged path and brought me to this place.

As I saw the ashes floating, there was an unexpected sound,
and I turned to see a pair of wings that were lifting off the ground.
With feathers thick and dark as night but fire at its core.
I stood there frozen by the grace as I watched the black bird soar.

Fly away,
Fly away,
Oh Black bird help me fly away.

The bird tore through the windy sky with an awesome show of force,
as if drawing on a passion fueled by some unknown source.
In defiance it let out its cry and that was when I saw,
The face of mother nature here in the cold and in the raw.

Valiant, stretched from wing to wing it carried on its way,
Sailing through the rugged skies and dreary clouds of gray.
It rode up to that horizon line and I watched it disappear,
Free from all its enemies and free from all its fear.

Fly away,
Fly away,
Oh Blackbird help me fly away.

I chased it down the muddy trail along the rivers bank,
and suddenly I saw two more join up along its flank.
Then three strong they picked up speed and rode towards the sun,
Separate though they may have been, they found their way as one.

I still walk through the forest floor on lonesome autumn days,
For it's there I find my quiet time where I go to get away.
And I look up in wonder and listen for the mighty cry,
Hoping that the black bird is still tearing through the sky.

Fly away,
Fly away,
Oh Blackbird help me fly away.