Softly the birds are singing to me
How beautiful they are: so pure, so free
Nothing to keep them from doing their thing
Can you imagine a bird who cannot sing?
I love the birds they fly so free
They touch the sky they look at me
They whistle to me while in the sky
Don't you know, you're meant to fly.
Sometimes in life you must let go
Of things familiar, things you know
To come to do what is yours to do
Goodbyes, Hellos are waiting for you.
Indeed some doubts will surely arise
When you decide to soar the skies
But you'll come to know great peace
While in the flight your fears will cease.
We all have something we're meant to do
It'll gnaw within us: through and through
And until we come to do our thing
We will be like a bird that cannot sing