Your Ceiling

I remember when I, red-winged black bird tried to fly for the very first time. Wings at my sides stretched outright, ready to take flight, instinct making up my mind... Saying: love is beautiful, but this is a set of chains with a bit in my mouth and the constant pull of reins. The highest sky I could find was only the height of your ceiling. You knew my every move, my every thought, my every feeling. And I'd just say: its ok, everyone makes mistakes. So I'd fly around at your height, saying is this right? Is this right? Is this what you like? And I wore kid gloves until I said goodbye... I don't belong....under your ceiling. So I stole back my lost breath, lifted my wings and I flew above your head. Higher and higher, higher and higher. I'll still visit you now and then, but not for long and never permanent. I can only believe in me, above your head. I can still love you even if you don't know my every move, my every thought, my every feeling. I can only breathe in the air above you... I can only live in the air above your ceiling. I remember when I, red-winged black bird tried to fly for the very first time.