“Let us be like a bird for a moment perched On a frail branch when he sings;Though he feels it bend, yet he sings his song,Knowing that he has wings.”

“Be a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings.”

“I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,-When he beats his bars and would be free;It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-I know why the caged bird sings!”

“THE TAME BIRD WAS IN A CAGETHE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to the wood."The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the cage."Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?""Alas," cries the caged bird, "I should not know where to sit perched in the sky." The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands."The cage bird sings, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned."The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands." There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my love!"The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage."The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.”

“In mirth he mocks the other birds at noon,Catching the lilt of every easy tune; But when the day departs he sings of love,—His own wild song beneath the listening moon.”

“He begins to sing to her, very softly, almost not singing at all, just a whisper of a tune. He spins out the tune like it is a tale he is telling her, until he feels her body relax, until he feels her falling into sleep. He sings to let her know he’s there, to stay anchored to the earth, to keep from laughing or crying in amazement that he is lying with Alice in his arms, he sings as if music could keep her alive, as if music could feed her soul, as if music could weave a protective spell around her to survive these days and these weeks and these months and these years, he sings as if he could give her a piece of himself, which will ring inside of her like a bell, like a promise, like hope whenever she needs him; and in his singing, he promises her every single thing he can think of, and more.”