Jacinta Whitcome: Music |

I met a black bird on barbed wire
there was fire, red and golden, on his wings
I could see his black eyes notice our turmoil
yet there was stillness in his being

I took one deep breath in
as he let his breath breathe out
cause he knows flight will begin
if only from the airlessness of doubt

CHORUS: We used to be gods; we used to be kings.
we used to have small but true meaning.
we are just this breath, we are just the light of the sun
not caged by death or life... the one...

I met a caged bird of green and yellow
His beauty was beyond perception
His song was more pure still
I wanted so, to free him

He sings a song that floats on air
Free from all that confines
...strange how a caged birds song
has freed my own mind

CHORUS: We are all gods; we are all kings.
We used to have a small but true meaning.
we are just the breath, just the light of the sun
not caged by death or life... the one..


In the river down from the old road
lives a bird of such quiet grace
and her silence hold up a mirror
in her wings she hold all of time and space

CHORUS: We are all gods; we are all kings.
we all have small but true meaning.
we are all this breath, we are the light of the sun
not caged by death or life... the one..