My heart is yearning for that dark, crazy magic,
reaching out for that ever attractive neurosis
like a firefly attracted to its death.
O heart be still.
Learn to love this peaceful life –
where nothing ever happens.

Mornings are when I’m crashing,
and every so often I lose control,
and there’s that bluebird in me singing:
wouldn’t you just like to go out a bit,
even if your whole world burns because of it?

But I am strong,
and I tell my bluebird:
keep in your song.
It won’t be long before I’m gone,
and you can sing all your songs
to your heart’s content.

So I watch the world go by,
like a firefly stuck in glue.
Waiting for the time when I’ll die,
leaving my bluebird to fly.

But wouldn’t you just love it a little bit,
if I let him out for a peek,
and hear the wonderful songs he’s singing in my heart?

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