there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but i'm too tough for him

i say "stay in there...i'm not going to let anybody see you"

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but i pour whisky on him and inhale cigarette smoke

and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but i'm too tough for him

i say "stay down, do you want to mess me up? do you want to screw up the works? do you want to blow my book sales in europe?"

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but i'm too clever

i only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep

i say "i know you're there so don't be sad"

then i put him back...but he's singing a little in there

i haven't quite let him die

and we sleep together like that, with our secret pact

and it's nice enough to make a man weep

but i don't weep

do you?

Charles Bukowski