I shot a bird in flight, he had a light,
but he could not hide it.
His wings, they beat like hand drums,
as he left the world, convinced he was separate.
Although, he was not.
He transcended the thoughts in his head, his limited wings, the lies he was feeding,
and renounced his faith in God, and material wants,
that kept him believing,
there was more, well there's not.

Useless thoughts.

We had a funeral parade, but nobody came,
we could not find him, and I'm afraid,
for killing that bird, I'll have to pay,
but oh, maybe not.

Just useless thoughts.

I shot a bird in flight, he had a light,
but he could not hide it.