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So tell me,
little birdie,
when did you fly away?
Why did you stop chirping
upon the light of day?
So tell me,
little birdie,
what made you fall back down?
What made it so damn easy
to kiss the cold, hard ground?
So tell me,
little birdie,
is it really that much better,
the metal as it cuts and cuts
right through your little feathers?
So tell me,
little birdie,
when did you grow those wings?
Cause I remember clearly
I used to hate those things.
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