As I look out the window sill here,
I see birds circling high above the ground.
Free, floating as high as he wants,
To be ever so gently,
Free, free, free.
Now if I could trade places with that bird that soars,
Never to be trapped inside these doors,
I’d fly high and free to unknown places,
Above treetops and snow-capped places,
Free, free, free.
But I am just a man stuck here on the ground,
Maybe never meant to soar high and peacefully free,
From sea to shining sea,
Free, free, free.
Now if there is a God above, only He may one day be the Judge, To let me fly ever so high and gently free,
Above the stars and galaxies, or to burn in hell eternally,
Never, ever,
Free, free, free.
Written by John Dwyer, my MiracleFriend, when he was incarcerated in San Bruno County Jail #3 in 1986, for drug-related charges. Told to Linda Hoff on phone. By his own admission, he didn’t “straighten up” after release, as he was still “too wild.”
