Daddy says he’s a bird now

and winter’s gone at last

so now he’s goin’ back.

(Where, I don’t know, but he says it’s so; “winter’s gone at last.”)

Daddy’s gone back north,

says Mama kept him warm

but it’s a warm world now

and he’s better on his own.

Daddy says my wings are broke,

“better fly the coop,”

he says,

“but not like that.”

Mama says I’ll fly away some day

but not ‘til my wings are strong.

Mama says she’s a bird now,

that winter’s come and we best move on,

better head on home down south.

Mama says Daddy did his best but 

broken things only work so long.

Brother says he’s somethin’ else

(whatever we are not), 

says he’s got a course,

“differen’ one o’ course,”

but charted just the same.

And I don’ know what I am no more

but I am a thing with wings

(a thing with feathers so it seems).

Daddy says he’s a bird now,

Mama says she’s a bird now,

And Brother says he ain’t.

Seems I can be whatever I think,

what a hopeful thing indeed.