Imagining its kind,
Fly the sky with their wide spread wings.
There she was,
Confined in a bar-lined cage,
That had her wings cliped,
Oh goodness!
Her voice isn't captured,
Huh! She sings?
Oh yea she sings,
'cos she has a voice--she sings all day,
From the rising of the sun far into the going down of the sun.
The bird sings, the bird sings,
The song of freedom.