White Feather

There's not enough millet in the world to show you my gratitude

I'll give you that shiny toy that you keep glancing at

No bells or chains, I remember you're not a fan of noise

Tear up the walls, we'll paint over all of it later

And I hate when I leave you alone

But we both know that I have to go

I hope that you can understand

Have plenty of seed left in your bowl

Even in the morning when you stab my sleepy eye with your beak

Even at night, when you bite up the door frame overhead