Who can trust the word of a bird
Whom said she was dead
All squawk and no walk
As he flies in his skies
His quest out West
Left him hurt in the dirt
Now he's the talk of the flock
As they tend to his bends
All fringed with a singe
Are those feathers that we tethered
To the lies we did cry
The blame is our shame
All that pain we had lain
I now see as we flee
From the worst of our curse
We are the Cost of Your Lost