We think caged birds sing, when indeed they cry

Oft gay and honoured robes those tortures try:
We think caged birds sing, when indeed they cry.

Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild.

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more grey

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.

Men often are valued high, when they are most wretched.