Sweet wounded Flower Bird
Your wing so soft and Bloody
You only want your warm cozy nest
To clear your head and cuddle.

But your clock spins far to fast
And your heart begins to race.
Blood from your wounded wing
Spurts enlessly, no stop in sight.
Your head is muddled with fear, anger, and dread.

Oh, Sweet wounded Flower Bird
I have a vase for you
It's small and round and
Chrystal clear
It's water clean and cool.
Let me mend your bloody wing.
Just rest your wilting head
and know little Flower Bird,
Your life short or long,
that you are loved by one for sure
and your place is in his home.

So when your petals begin to fall
and your wings flap no more,
flower bird, you are my soul
and wound you I will no more.