Rain puddles in the drive-way
The big oak tree cries leaves
Cries leaves for me
He serenades the sky with his sniffling
And the breeze, she dries his tears
I am going puddle jumping in the shiny pools of drive-way water
Maybe there are worlds for girls like me
I jump but they don’t take me away
Just muddy my jean shorts
I knew it wouldn’t happen
But I can try
And then I see something that makes me tired
On the concrete lies a birdie
Still soaking in its little egg
Dead and cracked on the hard, mad ground
I don’t like the look of tiny death
maybe it fell out with the storm
or just tried to fly before it could
don’t you know, you can’t fly inside an egg?
I’m sorry you fell
You can’t fly when you’re trapped