Birds Can Write the Chorus
Gently woven curls of gold
A mirror to my face
It’s never what I thought it was
It’s never too late
My eyes are all painted on
My skin is all ash
You hide behind your principles
I’ve got my many masks
A thousand little leaves of grass
The fox who met me on the path
Oh, and a thousand giant symphonies
I can’t seem to rest
I’m flying through the colors now
I’m sitting on the steps
Of the house I grew up in
My childhood laid to rest
They said that we’re all sinners
Saints with no sense
I carry one message now
Of reverence
Yes this can be our story now
This can be our song
Birds can write the chorus
And we’ll all sing along