A canary, singing in his cage,
Thinks of the world outside:
He’s heard the blackbird’s joyful call
Performed with heartfelt pride.
He's heard the sparrows chattering
Out in the morning sun –
Whilst he, poor creature, sings alone
Far from their social fun.
In springtime they all made their nests
And young were reared with care.
Their days were long, their work was hard
Out in the warm spring air.
No wife has he, no nest to build,
And to whom can he complain?
A cage means that his freedom's gone.
His job's to entertain.
The days shorten, the cold winds blow
And swallows leave our shores
Yet, from a cage in someone's home,
A small voice gently soars.
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