but I'm too tough for him.
I say, stay in there,
I'm not going to let anybody see you.
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I pour Red Bull on him and pop a few painkillers
and the bikini girls and the meatheads and the
crafty old-school vets never know that he's in there. There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him.
I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my programming gig? There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out on the beach sometimes,
when it's just the fellas.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be sad.
Then I put him back,
but he's singing a little in there.
I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that
with our secret pact
and it's nice enough to make a man weep,
but I don't weep,
do you? - Original Poem by Charles Bukowski
