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Two birds met in Tirion in spring.
One was a lark, the other a lyre bird - boy could they sing!
The lyre went mad - he kept fooling himself,
The lark's hopes were dashed so she put him on the shelf.
Then went to the garden and spoke with the wind.
Lift me like the wildflower, and I, my worldly ambitions will rescind.
Can you handle freedom, or will despondency cause you to break?
Oh, tender heart, my spirit feels pain at the heartache.
An owl came along and said - lady are you wise?
It's foolish to live in the past, your heart trapped in a vice!
Rather, break free, and dance, and trill to the sky.
Until the day your heart stops and in Heaven you lie.