A young man sat by himself, among ancient oaks and shadow
This young man sat, contemplative, amongst the oaks and shadow
Emptying his pockets, emptying the contents onto the worn path before him
A single white handkerchief, dirtied by the short journey taken by him
A solitary, crumpled, torn, handkerchief
A bead of sweat, a string of perspiration sprinted down his forehead
The red sun pounded, it beat and massacred the flesh upon his forehead
Soaking clothes, yellow clothes, yellow shirt, yellow pants, yellow heart
The man stood, he stood as the sun assailed him, his yellow skin, his yellow heart,
A soiled, solitary handkerchief at his feet
A journey began, a left made, all great adventures start with a left turn
For a wispy glimpse of something, of nothing started the left turn
A left turn to a cliff, but does he follow the bird as it swoops down
A steep cliff, not the grove so calm and peaceful, the bird swoops down
Restrictions, yellow hair, yellow eyes, yellow heart
Lust for the sky, NO, weighted down by these earthly sins, so desperate
The Bird's beauty builds to a crescendo, hands reaching for it, so desperate
Does he take the plunge, does he jump for the bird, knowing the truth
Pain, suffering, hardship, these are the cliff's composition, knowing the truth
Restrictions, yellow hair, yellow eyes, yellow heart
Do you hear me, young man, as my screams puncture the silence, I work miracles
Tear off your clothes, wash off your sweat, I am the knower of knows, I work miracles
My eyes, my yellow eyes cry out to the man, I know the secret of life!
The man collapses on himself, the young man implodes, yet I know the secret of life
Look inwards, past the tangled vines and wounded heart
The bellows on conscience are deaf, the bellows of the bird cry, so subtly loud
A pool of water lays, a pool of hope lies, jump in believer, so subtly loud
Jump for joy, dive for gladness, skip for hope, cleanse the sinners madness
The deeds of the sun, the deeds gone in an instant, cleanse the sinners madness
Look inwards, past the tangled vines and wounded heart
The man emerges, white clothes, white smile, white soul
The bird ca caws, white skinned, white tongued, white soul
Dashing, sprinting, catapulting off the ledge the young man jumps, hands extended
Hopes sealed in an envelope, aspirations boxed and sent, hands extended
The bird is his, yes, the bird is his
The bird, so soft, so elegant, so perfect coos, the young man coos along
Puzzle pieces fit together, the bird, the perfect bird coos, the young man coos along
The voice shrieks, it moans, it crys out in the wilderness, shouts of joy
The black veil is lifted, the voice is heard and so are it's shouts of joy
The Bird is his, yes, the bird is his
And my, what a wonderful fall!
