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A yellow bird, she sings
and dreams of things she's never seen.
And the yellow bird, her wings
have never touched the spring rain.
Where does such a breezy melody
come from if she's never seen the sky?
She says she was born with the seed of joy
and it blossoms from the inside

In this seed I find all I need
To write the music of my life

My feathered friend, your cage
must drive you to rage sometimes…
To think that you have aged
staring at nothing but beige walls
She says "you know, our lives
aren't so different as you would believe.
All are in prisons of some kind,
tethered by the stories that we weave."

I hear her song rising sweet and strong
and I'm lifted by the sound…
Living proof of a simple truth:
it's in the mind where freedom's found.

All we are is made of stardust and sky
We hold the whole world - The whole world inside.

A yellow bird, she sings
and dreams of things I've never seen.
And the yellow bird, her wings
have touched everything.

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