Sunday, 20 October 2019

The birds - satirical poems

Songs / Lyrics

The Birds

12/8 // Am D / Am D / Am D / Fmaj7 G9//
// Am D / Am D / Am D / Fmaj7 (or Eb) E7 // 

I've the strangest birds in a tree by my house,
They're tiny I don't know their names.
Though they met only a few weeks ago,
They're playing the oddest of games.

Each twig for their nest they borrow from rooks,
But now I'm amazed what I hear.
For each twig they borrow they're repaying five,
It's spread ... over twenty five years.

They're working all day taking twigs to the rooks,
By dusk they look well past their best.
'Smoke this, you'll feel better,' one rook commands.
'You can buy it from me,' it suggests.


// D / C / B / Bb /
/ Am D / Am D / Am D / Fmaj7 E7 //

Everyone knows the word, everyone says it.
But can you remember ... how freedom feels?


There's a mountain of twigs possessed by the rooks,
Yet nobody knows what they're for.
They could build far more nests than I've ever seen,
But they won't ... it seems there's a law.

I've tried asking the rooks why they need all these twigs,
They won't answer in person, that's clear.
But their spokesperson says that their motives are sound,
Yet his words smell of lying and fear.

Some rooks just flew past and I saw my birds bow,
Like they're pulled by invisible string.
Yet they envy the squirrels, who do as they please
Sad to say ... my birds no longer sing.

(rpt. chorus)

Copyright Peter Fairbrother

Tags: poems, lyrics, satire, reinventing slavery, pathological wealth, housing


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