There my cardinal sits, looking down from an oak tree
Fluffing up his feathers, glowing red and cheerful song
He sings for me, I watch and I admire that bird so free
The cold wind blows, he shivers. I wonder if it's wrong
To keep him in a cage, by my bed and near my heart?
He would be mine, only mine. A gilded home for good
Where he could never be wanting for love, to be a part
Of my life, to never know cold, do you think I should?
No, I could not. I will never cage my beautiful red bird
He needs to fly. To be free from a confining adoration
It's selfish of me, selfish when I still imagine that word
Always there, the optical illusion of a lover's sensation