Sober Black Shadows

When I see birds sitting on telephone lines,
Sober little black shadows in a neat little row,
I wonder why they stay.
What I wouldn't give to have wings
And the freedom that comes with them.
Freedom they have,
These somber black shadows,
A freedom they don’t use.
When I see birds sitting on telephone lines,
Sober little black shadows in a neat little row,
I wonder why they stay,
Stuck, and grounded on earth,
Then I ask myself the same thing,
And I realize
The only thing keeping us from flying
Is ourselves.