Damaged little bird

Broken little wings

Who would want to hurt

A little thing that sings

He takes her in his hands

Wraps her up in love 

Looks at all her wounds

Kisses every single one

Her little chirp is but a cry

Her song is but a weep

Her feathers are all tattered 

Her voice is but a peep

Too exhausted to fly

Too broken to flee

Warm in his hands

Little bird sleeps