Look at those birds, they are staring at me.
What must it be like to fly around free?
They hop through the bushes and peck at the fruit,
They sing in the treetops, like whistle and flute.
I glance round my cage, it’s so stark and so bare,
A bell and a mirror are all I have there.
I’m such a bright colour and they are so dull,
The sparrow, the blackbird and even the gull.
I wish I was out there, flying round free.
I’d sing in the sunlight, up there in the tree.
People First, software second - Since 1985...
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