Listen to my bluebird laugh.
She can't tell you why.
She knows only crying.
Just crying.
There she sits, a lofty perch.
Strangest color blue.
Flying is forgotten now.
Thinks only of you.
Just you.
Must be a thousand hues.
And each just differently used.
You just know.
That you can't categorize.
She got soul.
She got soul.
She got soul.
Soon she's going to fly away.
Sadness is her own.
And go home, and go home.
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