Birds of a feather
Do flock together
So I see a swan, ever so often
For I'm on my death bed

It is a resting place that I turn to every night
The next day waking in a bittersweet abyss
For I nary rest my mournful eye
And once I do, it still opens evermore

What is it to take a title?
I step on pedestals once and twice
On my hand, a mantle, a gauntlet
On my back, a cape, head, a crown

Who am I to assume the roles of the passed and the gone?
I step and step and step in their footsteps and live
Never have I drowned myself in bile
Or fastened a rope around my wounded neck
Never clipped my beautiful wings
I just burned the tips, to stay flightless
Took off the crown and weeped forever
While the idolized watch over me and hope I stand

Who are you, who were you, who will you be?
Am I as you describe, a knife in the dark?
I've been dreaming the words of a prophet
Because, honey, I am the wall, the bastion
And you are the sweet, piercing trumpet
Tear me down, so I can rise from the ashes
Never once will I die
I am immortal

I am a star whose beams shine bright black
My confusion reaches past these hospital windows
Woman, please help me in my woe
I'm new here, a stranger
I don't recognize this

I am a pestilence that strikes animals
Or a Dutch merchant
I am the star who burns like the brightest candle
I am the woman who walks on the edges of thorns
And dives deeper and deeper into despair
I am the homeless man who asks for money
In exchange for a poem from another homeless man
My knowledge is none and immeasurable

Dancing through streets of gray concrete
The rain knocks on my forehead and eyes
Are the empty chambers still full and free?
Are you happy to see me?
Or is that a gun in your pocket?

Sing swan songs, so the people may hear you
Let them know, may they cry in their darkest hour
While your heart rises above the ocean of blackness
They cry out for you, but it's too late. Always too late.
That was your last song, and it will never again be sung.

That was your last song, and it will never again be sung.

Birds of a feather
Do flock together
So I see a swan, ever so often
For I'm on my death bed

No, nurse, I do not want it
Bringing me medicine won't help
Do you not get it?
All my songs are my last song, I'm not leaving.