A free bird leaps/ on the back of the wind/ and floats downstream/ till the current ends/ and dips his wing/ in the orange sun rays/ and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks/ down his narrow cage/ can seldom see through/ his bars of rage/ his wings are clipped and/ his feet are tied/ so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings/ with a fearful trill/ of things unknown/ but longed for still/ and his tune is heard/ in the distant hill/ for the caged bird/ sings for freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze/ and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees/ and the fate worms waiting on the dawn of bright lawn/ and he names the sky his own.
But the caged bird stands in the grave of dreams/ his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream/ his wings are clipped and his feet are tied/ so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings/ with a fearful trill of things unknown/ but longed for still/ and his tune is heard/ on the distant hill/ for the caged bird/ sings for freedom.