There’s a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him. I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you. There’s a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke. and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he’s in there. There’s a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him. I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe? There’s a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too clever. I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody’s asleep. I say, I know that you’re there, so don’t be sad. then I put him back, but he’s singing a little in there. I haven’t quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it’s nice enough to make a man weep. But I don’t weep, do you?
actually i don’t understand this....it sounds kinda nice writing about