a bird is gliding on it's wings
In perfect harmony as it sings
Thinking not of bothersome things
and then a distant rifle rings
The bullet flies and misses it's mark
There's a man hiding in da park
The man in angry yells out "fark"
Protecitng life is as thin bark
Men stare hate in the times of peace
For the bird, there is no ease
The structure of life has a crease
what honor is in death's like these
The bird lives on to fly today
But it won't always be this way
In closing, I have this to say
"There's going to be hell to pay"
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