It starts with song birds singing the highs of the treble,
How they fly so high,
In the sunlight's eye,
No worries bigger than a pebble.

Some bask in the warmth forever,
Yet some stare to hard, and the sun stares back,
Blind and scorched their soft down smokes black,
Now their songs fade away giving pain it's pleasure.

The static in their heads is the nausea of the soul screaming,
For they're hollow inside with nothing left,
Besides the low thud of the clef,
Because their hearts died dreaming.