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If I was a bird I'd fly,
Fly, fly far away,
You'd never catch me, but would you even try?

You'd never notice, not even enough to cry,
Higher, higher into the sky until I hit the wall of tangled ivy,
That holds us in this cage called society.

The ivy seems so slow and weak,
you'd really think that no one could be caught by it,
but if you sit and listen long enough,
so mild and meek to the gossip you seek,
then you will be caught by it.

Now when you look and when you see,
That this is me,
Not some piece of gossip,
And when those hateful tangles,
Me begins to strangle,
You might begin to cry.