Tragedy entangles each and every written note
As the bird upon the paper is caged by ink
Who the artist? No one knows or why this song he wrote
As the drawing of the bird lies, the drying ink

Wings towards the heavens and throngs ringing out clear
This masterpiece that moves to tears all who dare listen
As song uttered to the room and a wonder floating from the page
A bird caged by nothing else but pen and paper

The wind longing for the touch of it's strong, yet gentle wings
Moaning in the agony of the melody that rises
Ink turns to sound and the bird, oh it sings
No such fortune for it in prisons of paper