When I was a bird, I found seed
beyond all of my wildest needs.
But it’s turned colder,
the babes are older.
I haven’t sunflowers to feed.

I always thought suitable mates
were those who could talk with big gaits.
I chose eagerly
a song sung sweetly,
And glance wistfully at who wait.

I heard of some friends that would fly
far in the fields throughout blight.
I could not compare,
but love how they dared
to take and prepare for a life.