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A canary, singing in his cage,

     Thinks of the world outside:

 He’s heard the blackbird’s joyful call

       Performed with heartfelt pride.

 

He's heard the sparrows’ chattering

     Out in the morning sun –

 Whilst he, poor creature, sings alone

      Far from their social fun.

 

In springtime they all made their nests

    And young were reared with care.

 Their days were long, their work was hard

     Out in the warm spring air.

 

No wife has he, no nest to build,

     And to whom can he complain?

A cage means that his freedom's gone.

     His job's to entertain.

 

The days shorten, the cold winds blow

      And swallows leave our shores

Yet from a cage in someone's home,

        A small voice gently soars.

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