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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
He could fly, it was his job Across the battlefields, and the bloody bogs He spread his wings, and took to the skies And he was safe every time he flied But there were some who could not fly And to see him soar always made them cry So they'd shoot their jealous arrows They cut him down, they were such nasty fellows Occasionally, they would hit him And the pain would burn a hole into his skin So he built some heavy armor And each time it was hit, it would only make him calmer Eventually, it weighed him down So much weight, he could neither smile nor frown And his wings lacked the strength to fly So he spent his days dreaming of the sky
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