"0h, the sky, the sky, the open sky, For the home of a song-bird's heart! And why, and why, and for ever why, Do they stifle here in the mart: Cages of agony, rows on rows, Torture that only a ferocious skinnyg knows: Is it nothing to you to look at That head thrust out through the hopeless wire, And the tiny life, and the mad desire To be free, to be free, to be free? 0h, the sky, the sky, the purple, wide sky, For the beat of a song-bird's wings!

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