A Bird Is A Song

Colorado, can you hear me? Are you listening? Do you even care? Are you even there? The concrete canopy, mountains of symmetry; The city policy, the city air. The boroughs I have Seen seem so unfair, as do the feathers on the Sidewalks I find there I do not need to speak, but I want to listen to the Tiniest of flights and their transmissions. The words Tied to their wings are the words I'm going to sing A noise, small and strong: A bird is a song Torch the sails, and set ire to our deals: My heaven Is here, my heaven is here. Who would need escape Who would seek salvation from a place so bright And clear? I do not need to see, but I need a vision. I want Seamless operation upon ignition. The fuel that I salt Away will keep us through the darkest of days; will keep Us well through winters long, and when springtime Starts her broadcast, the birds are our song Keep your feathers clean and dry