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| - ?? More from Zylund SongbirdMy world is flipped,My wings are clipped,Never allowed to fly.A cage of bronze,Adorn with fronds,And painted like the sky.Tirelessly I call my friends,To no avail, I condescend,The life I live is a lie.They think I sing,By the notes I bring,The fools I lead awry.They poke and prod,And offer laud,For a show of song supply.Day by day I sing,And wait for the healing of win
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