There are songs about joy and songs about pain. Humans sing the blues, but do birds? I look at you all, still my guitar gently weeps. Does the blue bird do the same? After the storm, he quietly resumes his song. Perhaps that delicate chirping is the moaning and groaning of soul discontented. Disconnected. Perhaps even disdained. The next time you see a blue bird, remember his song of pain is just as beautiful as his song of joy. Maybe that blue bird could teach us a thing or two about joy and pain. Printed on American Apparel
