Open, open the bird cage
Watch the birds fly away, it’s beautiful
Children, if you see
Small birds imprisoned
Open their door, let them fly free
A small thimble
With three drops of water inside,
Above their perch
An all white cuttlebone
And a little bird, sad to live in prison—
That brings sunshine into the house
Or so they will tell you
Nasty men of leisure
Old geezers
Who have only holes of air
In their heads
Once in your life
You who are not like them
Do something that will make you happy
If your landlady goes tweet tweet on her balcony with her parakeets imported from Japan
And her yellow canaries and her Bengali birds
At your turn go cootchie coo and slyly exclaim, Lord what plumage!
But my dear madam you are wanted on the third floor
And as soon as her back is turned
Even if you won’t be forgiven —
Open open the birdcage
Watch the birds fly away, it’s beautiful
Children if ever you see little birds imprisoned
Open their door let them fly free.