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