we go through every day blindly
we try to act kindly
to everyone we meet

but then comes along
that lark who ruins
the swan's song
and all we feel is grief

we yell out in pain at the disharmony
but blarmy, blarmy
what to do
about our little swan song
but to simply find another

all we see is the ugly duckling
who hates everyone he meets

what to do
about his pain
but we never think
all we see is our own grief

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