my parents told me i could have a little bird.
they told me to behave & if i did they would bring one home.
& i would put it in a beautiful gold cage lined on the bottom with yesterday's newspapers,
always yesterdays,
'cause i would change them everyday.

already there was a little bird i wanted,
small & brown, he sat outside the kitchen window sometimes.
he didn't sing, not noisy & brightly coloured.
i loved him.
if you broke up your sandwich crusts & left them on the sill he would always come for them.

i wouldn't lock you up small & brown! i would let you fly around our house
& bring you sandwich crusts, always.
but you would remember me, you would!

you would fly right down next to my eye
& give me a stare so strong that i would just know right away how much you loved me.

he would have been such a perfect bird & i was sure to be on my best behaviour always.
i even forgot about biting my fingernails.
but they brought home a different bird.
it was yellow & had a funny name.

they told me small & brown birds were only for looking at.
i started eating my sandwich crusts again.
this bird made too much noise & i hated it.


i want this one.