"Do you mean the attack is routine?" 
A bird asked of a bird 
"In this context, a concave nest, 
how do we learn to hurt?" 

"Do you mean there's no variation?" 
watching a dog charge a flock 
of birds exploding in congregation 
"Why plan, when when we stop?" 

"I dunno...but why suppose 
it's not the way it should be? 
When you can fly above the great waiting list, 
as the crow implies we won't be missed, 
we can 
leave 
we can 
leave 
we can 
leave." 

It's a routine flight for this bird tonight 
There's more worms than earth 
in the afterlife 
Where the blind feed the blind, 
whispering things like; 
"On the money" and "Bullseye" 
She picks up the little leaves 
Where human wrecks are left to seed 
Left to repaint their deities 
and plaster away at their villainies 
Where there's love 
there's hope 

"And do you hope those earthbound poets 
could learn to sing as good as us? 
So we can sit back and enjoy our illusions 
and our quietus?" 

"Well I don't now...but why suppose it's 
not the way it should be. 
When you can squawk and wait for word from above 
and change yourself into something you love 
when you 
leave 
when you 
leave 
you leave?"