Every single, bird i find
Pidgeon, or some sort of crow,
I bring it where, the plants'll grow
Praying that, it wouldn't snow

♪

Stitchin up, her wounds again
Golden, and slightly rotten
What colour, was her feathered dress?
Can't remember, my minds a mess

♪

My lungs, found it, hard to breathe
Without me, she couldn't grieve
What a life, i just killed a dove
Asphyxiation, in foxglove
I- dont know how, it got to this
Just burn it down, my hearts amiss