An unmade bed The unfinished book lies half-read And underneath the chain-light Staring into space A secret tongue, some other place An outward kind of insight Below the picture of your mother in her wing There are records in the corner Where she taught you how to sing
Bye bye bluebird Bye bye my bluebird
In your head these are not the only words There were promises of continence and other things I heard As we stoned the bird We stood there for a long time Hoping it would rise Waiting for it to fly again And one by one, we all turned away Off to kill the grass where the others came to play
Bye bye bluebird Bye bye my bluebird
If it was at all easy to get your attention I would be the king of hell and you my henchman Somewhere in all these fames we would see the open sky Assassins by trade Twisted in the blade Murder in the lullaby