Don’t clip my wings.
I will be the bird that sings from the first morning on earth to eternity.
I offer classes for free, so please take classes from me.
Don’t clip my wings,
Everyday is spring and a song is a response to new burdenings.
Not burger king, even though their red velvet shake sounds like a cool thing.
But the song in my heart, I haven’t lost it.
Don’t clip my wings,
Songs are like awakenings.
Fresh and new,
A new and clean slate for me, you, the few that dare to dream, and dare to beam when it comes to fruition.
These songs are all I have,
Without them, I’ll go mad.
No nest,
No eggs,
No sleep,
No rest (Same thing genius. Well, not necessarily.),
And no new songs to write them selves.
Everything will be on the shelf,
and I’ll be by myself, with my madness and eventual sadness pondering on the potential bliss that I now have to miss.
So please, don’t clip my wings.