31 Mart 2010 Çarşamba

Sometimes stop, sometimes goo.

Well, I didn't tell anyone, but a bird flew by; saw what I'd done. He set up a nest outside and he sang about what I'd become. He sang so loud, sang so clear. I was afraid all the neighbors would hear, so I invited him in just to reason with him. I promised I wouldn't do it again.

But he sang louder and louder inside the house and now I couldn't get him out.

I trapped him under a cardboard box, stood on it to make him stop. Picked up the bird and battled with him. I said: "That's the last song you'll ever sing." Held him down, broke his neck; taught him a lesson he wouldn't forget.

But in my dreams began to creep that old familiar, "Tweet, tweet, tweet."

I opened my mouth to scream and shout. I waved my arms and flapped about, but i couldn't scream and I couldn't shout.

The song was coming from my mouth.
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